


Solivagant

by MidnightsTouch



Category: A Song of Ice and Fire - George R. R. Martin, Game of Thrones (TV), Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Blood and Violence, F/M, Female Harry Potter, Implied/Referenced Rape/Non-con, Magic, Sacrifice, graphic description of violence
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-07-02
Updated: 2021-03-03
Packaged: 2021-03-05 05:33:29
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 12
Words: 59,424
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25039306
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MidnightsTouch/pseuds/MidnightsTouch
Summary: Amalthea Potter suffered all her life. The War is over but she doesn't feel that she will be able to be happy again. She lost a lot, she lost her parents, Sirius and Remus, her beloved Fred and she lost her independence. When she finds out an old family secret, she finally has an opportunity to be who she wants to be, to have a new life and perhaps... to live in a new world.It's time for Amalthea to be the owner of her destiny.
Relationships: Female Harry Potter/Robb Stark
Comments: 264
Kudos: 612





	1. Cast and Cover

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I thought you might like to see some art I made for this story, including the cast gifs, an aesthetic and the book cover (the cover is in the aesthetic part of the chapter) which I love and I'm proud of making.  
> Hope you guys like it and sorry that this isn't an actual story chapter.
> 
> You can follow me on Instagram and Wattpad if you want, this story is published there too. My instagram and Wattpad is MidgnightsTouch

**Adelaide Kane** como **Amalthea Potter**

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**Richard Madden** como **Robb Stark**

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**Michelle Fairley** como **Catelyn Stark**

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**Sean Bean** como **Eddard Stark**

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**Kit Harington** como **Jon Snow**

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**Sophie Turner** como **Sansa Stark**

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**Maisie Williams** como **Arya Stark**

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**Art Parkinson** como **Rickon Stark**

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**Isaac Hempstead-Wright** as **Brandon Stark**

**☽ ◯ ☾**

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	2. Prologue

At the moment when Lord Voldemort's broken body collided with the ground, finally having the end that everyone had prayed for a long time - too long in fact -, Amalthea Potter felt nothing but immense sorrow. Sorrow for all the lost lives for that man, if he could be considered a man after all the atrocities he committed. Sorrow for her, sorrow for her family and friends, acquaintances, and all those who in one way or another suffered at the hand of the Dark Lord. Maybe even sorrow for him. Voldemort never found the peace and love that everyone deserved at least once in their lives, and for that... everyone had to suffer with him.

 _"It's done..."_ Whispered the voices of all the dead, causing a shiver that started at the back of her neck and that went down her spine. The voice of her parents, Sirius, Remus, and Fred were among them. Amalthea knew since the Elder Wand flew into her hand, between the two powerful spells she and Voldemort had cast in the final act, what she had become...

Mistress of Death. Thea was now the Mistress of Death... She! She who just wanted a life of peace and normality.

The silence that followed Voldemort's fall did not last long - or perhaps it did, at least for her it seemed to last an eternity. All of her was numb, her body frozen and her mind empty. Screams of joy, crying, groans of relief, hugs, and kisses have been around her since the Dark Lord was defeated. Amalthea had no one to hug.

Well, she did. She had Neville, Luna, and Hagrid. Hermione was still there, and so was Ron and the rest of the Weasleys - except Fred... Fred who would never smile again when they both kissed passionately, Fred who would never whisper her name like a prayer as if he couldn't believe she was real and that she was his. She could never hug and kiss him again. She could never love him in this life. He was there, but at the same time, he wasn't. Not as she wished he were.

Amalthea's body was numb, sore, exhausted. She couldn't muster the strength to celebrate together with everyone else. How could she? As much as everyone tried, they would never understand.

 _"It's okay, go if you want to go."_ Fred's voice was as warm and loving as it had always been when addressed to her. She could feel the soft, icy touch of his caress on her face, she could see the ghostly sad smile he gave her when she tried hard not to cry.

Taking a last look at Voldemort's corpse, still unable to believe that it was finally over, Thea turned on her heels and with a soft pop! she disappeared, her friends' screams and laughter still ringing in her ears.

The first thing she did when she reached Grimmauld Place was to call for Kreacher, the grumbling old house-elf who seemed overjoyed to find his lady alive and well. A wide smile was on his wrinkled skin when he realized that he had not lost another master. The copy of Slytherin's locket that he wore around his neck swung when he was quick to offer Thea a hot bath.

The beautiful young woman didn't take long to enter the hot, fragrant water of the black marble bathtub and let herself relax for a few minutes.

Her heart was pounding in her chest and her breathing was racing, even though she tried to control herself. Finally, when she was sure that no one would bother her, she released the sobs that wanted to plague her body. Hot tears flowed down her face, her eyes becoming swollen and reddened but not less beautiful...

She screamed. She shouted loudly and without fear. She shouted and called out to her mother, her father, Sirius and Remus. She screamed for Fred, the man she loved. The man she knew she could never forget.

Only her mother appeared at that moment - perhaps she appeared alone because even though the others were dead they didn't want to invade her privacy. Her mother's figure had sat on the edge of the bathtub, humming softly as she ran her fingers through her daughter's black hair.

Lily was beautiful, even in her death. Tall and sculptural, with fire-red hair and bright green eyes. Amalthea had spent years hearing over and over again that she had her mother's green eyes, but not fail to notice that everyone had been wrong. Lily's eyes were jade green, while Amalthea's were a different shade of emerald, never seen before... Almost like the color of the Death Curse. Maybe it was meant like that. After all, she was now the Mistress of Death.

"What am I going to do now?" She asked, interrupting Lily Potter's angelic voice singing over swallows and a bright sun.

 _"Whatever you wish, my love."_ Lily said, watching her daughter play with the water that was crystal clear before. The blood and dirt disappeared from the young Potter's body when she rubbed her skin so many times until it turned red. But not all the water in the world and perfumed oils could make her feel less dirty, less broken. _"You and I know what you want, Amalthea. It's finally over. Voldemort is defeated, he will not be able to harm anyone again."_

Thea thought again of what everyone considered a monster but who had once been a handsome, intelligent, and captivating young man. She knew that she could have become like Tom Riddle... She realized that when she wrote in his diary in the second year and he became her confidant. They had so much in common, yet they were so different. At that time she hadn't realized who he was, she found it wonderful to have someone to talk to, to have someone who listened and understood what it was like to be an orphan, without feeling the love of their parents and being alone in the world just like her. The moment she stabbed the diary with the basilisk prey and saw the ink gush like blood on a wound, amid the screams of pain, Tom Riddle had smiled. He knew that she had to do it.

He knew that she had to defeat that monster he had become. Amalthea hoped that he had found peace.

She finished her bath without further ado, the water disappearing from the bathtub at the same moment she got up, wetting the floor on her way to dry herself and get dressed.

James Potter, Sirius, Remus, and Fred joined the two when they were already in the bedroom. The spirits waited on the big bed while she combed her long and wavy black hair, that seemed to run in the Potter family.

 _"Nobody will judge you if you want to go, pup."_ Sirius' voice had been heard while the others waved.

Thea looked up from her reflection in the mirror, her skin so pale showing evidence of crying and the few freckles she had, and she smiled sadly. "They would never let me go even if I wanted to. They think I have a duty to them as their savior, as if I hadn't already done that."

 _"Voldemort is dead."_ Said Fred.

"There will always be others like him. New Dark Lords will always appear."

 _"You owe them nothing, my daughter. You are free to do whatever you want. Your mother and I always wanted you to be happy, do what you think will make you happy!"_ James Potter exclaimed, looking lovingly at his daughter.

"Since they created that prophecy, I have never really been free or happy..." Thea sat across from her father and took his hands gently. The touch of a ghost was strange, it was there and it wasn't. It was real and at the same time, it was not. Father and daughter were so alike, be it appearance or personality. "I know that Dumbledore put me with the Dursleys just to play my savior a few years later, when it was time for me to go to Hogwarts. He used me as his puppet in his war and games. Everything for the greater good..."

 _"Screw the greater good."_ Snarled Fred, looking at his beautiful lover, the woman he continued to love even though they were separated by the world of the dead and the world of the living. " _You have already had to give up too many things just for the greater good."_

Remus smiled at the green-eyed girl. _"Amalthea, no one would blame you for leaving. We cannot imagine what it is like to be in your position, knowing that so many have their eyes on you... waiting for your next step, waiting to see the seventeen-year-old girl whom they put the weight of the world on her shoulders, smile and thank the gratitude comments they think is enough. We just want you to know that we will always be with you..."_

 _"...here!"_ Whispered her godfather, looking with such love and pride in his eyes as he pointed to her chest, to the exact place where her heart was beating strongly.

The urge to cry had come again, but Thea had managed to suppress it. She looked at the five figures in anguish and said: "I never want to feel so worthless again, I never want to feel my life and decisions to be decided by others. I don't want to see everyone deciding my destiny for me."

_"Your destiny is what you choose for yourself, my love."_

"I don't want to be a pawn again! I am more than tha..." Her voice became a mere whisper. "I deserve more than that."

Lily Potter smiled fondly and fiercely, in the eyes of a mother who protects her children from all the dangers in the world.

_"Don't be a pawn, Amalthea. Be a player."_


	3. Chapter I

As Thea already knew, Hermione, Ron, and the rest of the Weasley didn't react well to the news of her wanting to leave.

"Where?" They asked when Thea had decided not to tell her destination. The truth is that even she didn't know where she wanted to go... she just wanted to escape. The desire to be free was greater than anything in the world.

"You can't go!"

"Can't I?" Questioned the Potter heiress with frustration and a little anger in her voice. "Yes, I can, I can do whatever I want. I've given up too much. You don't understand, do you? I have to find out who I am, I have to live for me for the first time. Since I was born my destiny has been decided by others; since the Prophecy, I don't know who I am. I was an orphan, a student, a pawn, a fighter, a savior from the magical world... but what does that make me? I had to fight a war that I didn't choose, I had to fight and solve problems that others should have solved a long time ago. I just want to live in peace, and be happy."

"You can't, Amalthea." Exclaimed Mrs. Weasley, her face even redder than her hair. Whether out of anger or trying to contain her crying, the young woman didn't know. "Fred wouldn't want that."

"Fred would want me to choose what I think is best for me and would support my decision." Thea said, and even though she didn't invoke the spirit of the dead Weasley twin, she knew that what she said was nothing more than the truth. "My choice is made... Please accept it. I'm choosing for myself for the first time."

The family matriarch burst into tears. Arthur Weasley didn't say a word, his face showed more and more traces of age when he pursed his lips, and wrapped his arm around his wife in a gesture of comfort.

Amalthea could say that none of them understood her decision, but they accepted it even though reluctantly.

Days later the joy and celebration still spread its roots in every part of the magical world. Of course, Voldemort devoted himself mainly to England in his reign of evil, but that didn't mean that the rest of the world was unaware of all the terror they had gone through, and that their hearts were not with people in suffering and fear for their lives.

A few days later Amalthea made an appointment with the goblins of the Bank of Gringotts. With all due respect to the magical creatures she studied once, and knowing that they might still be slightly resentful of the damage done to the bank when she escaped on the back of a dragon, she informed that she would travel and that she didn't know when or if she would return, and she would like to take her money and goods with her.

To solve this problem, the goblins gave her a golden key and a small box, which would never open to anyone else, and that the moment the heiress Potter puts the key in the lock, she would be able to access her bank accounts and withdraw whatever she needed, wherever she was.

Amalthea also made a point of donating a generous amount of money to Hogwarts to help rebuild the castle, and also gave a fat amount of gold to the Weasley family (who wouldn't accept it, but Thea wouldn't take no for an answer). And of course, an account had also been opened in the name of little Teddy, her godson.

To her surprise when the pretty woman was already getting up to leave, the goblins presented her with something she thought she would never put her eyes on again. The sword's silver and rubies sparkled when she touched the sharp blade.

"Why?" Asked Amalthea.

The goblin's smile had been mysterious and sharp, with a mouth full of pointed teeth. He replied: "Only a person of honor, humility, and courage has the right to carry it and I think that Gryffindor's sword will only let the person who died to save humanity touch it. The sword cannot be drawn by anyone else. And believe me..." The Goblin commented. "We tried."

With a grateful smile and a slight farewell, Thea returned home. She had no idea where she was going, how she would live, what she was going to do.

She was sitting on the sofa, wrapped in a green blanket, and in front of the fire while she examined a map in her lap. Her translucent companions occupied different spaces in the living room of the house she had inherited from Sirius.

 _"Canada or Greece may be a good choice,"_ Sirius said, with an amused smile.

 _"Or Portugal. You always wanted to visit Portugal."_ Suggested Fred looking at the map.

Amalthea shook her head full of shiny black hair, picked up the mug on the small table next to the sofa, and took a sip of hot tea. A look of pure concentration dominated her beautiful face.

"I don't know... There are so many places to choose from."

_"Or you could choose none."_

Startled, the young woman lifted her head, black curls flying in various directions while her eyes focused on the figure of her father who was sitting on a sofa opposite to her, next to his red-haired wife. Both mother and father looked fondly at their daughter.

Leaning her head in a gesture of curiosity, Amalthea opened her full, pink lips and said, "I thought we decided this was a good idea."

Her father smiled playfully, his eyes behind his glasses sparkled with excitement. _"Oh, and it is, sweetheart."_

"So what do you mean by that?"

Leaning back on the couch and opening an even wider smile, James began to play with his wife's hair while his daughter and Fred looked at him with confusion, and the other companions with amusement. _"You don't necessarily need to choose any of those locations."_

Amalthea blinked in amazement, asking her mother, "Was he that confusing in life, or was it death that made him like this?"

Lily laughed: _"He was like that, nothing has changed. Honey, explain what you mean."_

 _"You guys ruin my fun!"_ Protested the man pouting like a child before he moved anxiously on the sofa and began to speak excitedly. _"This is a family secret, you know. From the Peverell and Potter family. "_

Amalthea's heart skipped, set the mug down again, and tossed the map aside giving her father her full attention.

In fact, all attention was now on the black-haired man and he seemed to enjoy that moment. Thea had always heard from others that her father was a bit vain in his youth, but she could see that even in death he hadn't changed that much.

_"You already know one of our legends, something that everyone thought was impossible. Three brothers were walking along a river, and after having cheated death, they received three things: The Elder Wand, The Resurrection Stone and the Cloak of Invisibility: together they make the Deathly Hallows. For others, it was just a story to tell children at bedtime, a fantasy that helped people to assume and believe that one day they could have power over something that everyone feared more than anything: death. But it wasn’t a mere story, was it? It’s real, and we all know that. You’re in possession of all the Deathly Hallows… You, Amalthea, the last survivor of the Peverell family, who somewhere along one of the lines of the three brothers became the Potter family. You are the Mistress of Death._

_> This story is even older and it is not about three brothers, this story is about two. Twins, Harlan and Hamish. It's about how close these brothers were and it's about how one of them disappeared on a stormy night. The thunder was heard that night, roared so loudly in the dark sky that it seemed to want to burst the earth. Strong winds seemed to want to take with them the small farm where the mother, father, and children lived. They were all lying in bed trembling in search of warmth when they heard a loud sound outside and the cattle broke free. Father and children quickly got out of bed and ran into the cold night while the heavily pregnant mother, anxiously awaited their return. They had to recover the cattle that had run away, it was their livelihood. Gradually they managed to find the animals and, amidst the rain that fell torrentially, they were directed to the corral._

_> Soaked to the bone they just wanted that night to end, they wanted the comfort of their home, the warmth of the fire, and their beds. They were all back when their father's prize horse broke free again, a beautiful black stallion, the horse bit the younger brother who tried to contain the animal, but the stallion ran away towards the forest._

_> Harlan started running after him, while his father and brother shouted for him to come back. The screams grew quieter, the sound of thunder and rain drowned out everything around him. Just as the youngest brother disappears through the trees, a huge lightning strike hit one and an intense fire quickly covered the forest. The fire was huge, so hot and scary. The falling rain couldn't put it out, and it went on all night._

_> Time was passing by and as much as they expected, Harlan still hadn't returned with the horse. The moon gave way to the sun, the storm stopped, the fire was extinguished. The forest was burnt and there was a father, mother, son, and neighborhood in search of little Harlan._

_> They searched everywhere, searched every corner where he could have taken shelter, checked every bush, every hole, every shadow. They went to the four corners of the world and still did not find him, he was thirteen and had disappeared without a trace. Some said he ran away, others said he was kidnapped. But the truth is that the younger brother of the Peverell family wasn’t anywhere and was presumed dead..."_

Silence dominated every corner of the house when James' words stopped, everyone looking thoughtfully at the man who leaned back against the sofa, with an expression of contentment on his handsome face. Beside him, Lily snorted and mumbled something: a mixture of reverence and frustration for her husband.

Sirius and Remus smiled as if they had heard it before, and waited for a question or answer from Amalthea.

The fire rose, tongues of red roaring in the silence, and small sparks flew out of the fireplace and disappeared as they landed on the floor. The sun outside was going down as it got dark, an orange light coming in through the window as they waited for night to fall.

Amalthea exchanged a look with Fred, both with confused expressions on their faces. Fred was so handsome in that light, his hair kissed by the fire, his blue eyes, the freckles on his face. He was beautiful and he died before his time.

 _"Who knew James Potter was so good with words."_ Fred commented, playful as always.

That was enough to break the silence and for the laughter to dominate the room. Amalthea closed her eyes for a second, a warm feeling making a home in her chest at that moment. The laughter sounded like music in her ears, laughter from all those she loved and missed so much. It was a good time and one that she would keep forever in her memory.

She addressed her father, who was bent on laughing when Sirius commented on how much those words were rehearsed, and all the times that he had told that story over and over again since he passed away.

"It was good, dad, and you know there's nothing I like more than hearing about our family, but I didn't understand the purpose of this story. What does that have to do with my current situation?"

James wiped the tears away - could a ghost even cry? -, Amalthea was not sure, but she let her father have his dramatic moment and waited for the Potter man to respond.

 _"But the story isn’t complete, daughter. We haven't even gotten to the interesting part yet. Continuing…"_ He broke into a huge smile, his white teeth gleaming in the firelight from the fireplace. _"The years passed and the brother was never heard from again. Father, mother, and son lived their life with a new addition in the form of a little girl, who was in the mother's belly when the brother disappeared. Death came and claimed the parents, who closed their eyes without ever knowing the location of one of their cubs. Brother and sister grew up, each had their families, each went their own way…_

_> But on a stormy night, when Hamish and his family were already in a deep sleep, there was a knock at the front door. Hamish got up grumbling, the pain of old age was already felt in his bones. He opened the door and what is his surprise when he saw a face exactly like his on the other side. The same eyes, the same nose, the same mouth. Stunned, he saw his brother entering his house, wet from the rain that was falling outside._

_> "Hello, brother." Said the long lost twin._

_> There was an exchange of looks, and blood knows blood. Magic knows magic. Hamish knew that Harlan had returned, they embraced after many years without seeing each other. Formerly black hair was now gray, young faces now had their wrinkles expressing age. But none of that mattered because they were reunited again._

_> The older brother's wife and children joined them that night, and finally, Harlan Peverell talked about where he had gone all those years ago. He spoke of waking up in a place he didn’t recognize, remembering chasing the black horse in the forest... remembering the fear, the rain, the heat of the fire, and waking up buried in snow, saved by a man who sheltered him in his home. He spoke of wolves, lions, deers, and dragons. Spoked of roses, trouts, krakens, and suns. He lived a happy life in a world that wasn’t his, where he became a lord of a small house, died very old in his castle surrounded by employees who admired their lord. He never had children or a wife, but he was happy and never forgot about his family. When he took his last breath on his bed, he closed his eyes on that world only to open them again in this one.”_

Amalthea knew that her facial expression must be minimally funny because even Fred, who was just as stunned as she was, laughed for a moment.

"But this is impossible!" Exclaimed Thea. "Other worlds? It is impossible to believe."

 _"Oh, is it now?"_ Sirius asked smiling.

"Yes! Where... How? How is it even possible?"

 _"Magic..."_ Said Remus, affectionately.

The black-haired girl's mouth opened and closed as she searched for words to say.

 _"There are many things that are considered impossible."_ Her mother started saying, getting up from the couch where she was with her husband, and sitting next to her daughter who was looking at her in shock. _"Things like someone being the Mistress of Death, for example."_

And with those simple words, Amalthea had nothing to refute. She nodded understandingly, even though she was still perplexed, and addressed the man she looked like again: "How come I never heard that story before?"

A flicker of sadness appeared in James' hazel eyes. _"It's a family story Thea, and I… I never had a chance to tell you about it."_

The desire to cry haunted Amalthea's body at that moment when she heard the sadness in the voice of the man who wanted to take care of her, to see her grow... but who never had the chance.

Clearing her throat, she asked, "How do we know if it's true?"

_"Well, you're the Mistress of Death, aren't you? Summon the brothers and ask them."_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Here is the first chapter! I hope you all like it. I can't thank you guys enough for all the support you gave to this story already! Thank you so very much <3


	4. Chapter II

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey guys, I'm sorry if this chapter took a little long time to post. My life has been difficult lately, my grandmother got sick and unfortunately she passed away.  
> I apologize for the delay, and I hope you enjoy the chapter.

She heard the sound of her calm breath entering and leaving her lungs, the hiss of the wind penetrating through the crack in the door and windows. She could hear Kreacher somewhere in the kitchen banging pots and pans and rubbing silverware, the crackling of wood, and of the red embers in the fireplace.

Her concentration remained steady despite these sounds that would mean nothing to others. The dead around her, paralyzed in their places, remained silent.

She felt that warm sensation inside her, her beautiful companion of years tingled, sliding through her veins, flooding her with a sense of peace. Magic slid, swirled, danced in her flesh and soul.

She thought to herself and at the same time to the others, to another entity:  _ "Harlan and Hamish Peverell. Let me see them, touch them, feel them. Let me talk to them and listen to their words. Harlan and Hamish, the Peverell Twins.” _

And she felt that strange sensation again, a touch that was both hot and cold, a solution and at the same time a problem. She knew she was heard and knew she was answered.

The moment she opened her eyes, they were both looking at her calmly. In front of the fireplace, in front of the tongues of fire that she was able to admire through their translucent bodies, dressed in carmine and black, two brothers holding hands opened their mouths and said:  _ "You summoned us and we came." _

When she thought of the Peverell Twins, she imagined them old and tired, with white hair and wrinkled skin... but those in front of her were two little boys with shoulder-length black hair, brown eyes, and youth in their soul. They were thirteen again, the age when they were separated.

Amalthea knew it was something they decided. Just as Sirius and Remus chose to look slightly younger and healthier, the brothers chose their stolen youth. They would now live in the world of the dead what they were unable to live together in the world of the living.

_ "What do you want from us, Mistress of Death?" _ Their innocent voices sounded together.

Calmly the Potter heiress replied, "My name is Amalthea, I am the last of your family line."

The twins smiled:  _ "We know, Amalthea Potter. We don't have much to do since we died other than watching our bloodline." _

I suppose you don’t..." Thea thought. Each spirit was a different case from what she realized. Some were free, fed up with mortal life and desirous of comfort, they went on to another plane unreachable by the living, where they would be happy. Others, like her parents, Sirius, Remus, Tonks, and her beloved Fred, chose to stay on the earth plane as long as necessary, watching their loved ones and the unfolding of their lives. And there were still some who had unresolved issues, things that bound them to the land and didn’t allow them to move on, and they would only achieve peace when they finally solve that problem.

_ "How can we be useful?" _ They asked.

Amalthea exchanged a look with her father, who nodded confidently. 

"I just heard a story..." The young woman with black hair began to say calmly, her green eyes shining like stars and her face a mask of seriousness. "Your story, in fact."

_ "And what do you want to know, Heiress Potter?" _

"It is true?" She asked leaning slightly on the couch, her light blue satin dress gliding smoothly like water as she moved. "Is this other world real?"

The Peverell brothers smirked, laughing. The twin's smile on the right went from ear to ear, and he replied: _ “Yes, Amalthea Dorea Potter, it is very real. Everything you heard in the story is the truth." _

"How?" The woman wanted to know, frowning when she remembered never mentioning her second name, but knowing that the dead had their ways of knowing certain things. “And is it safe? How do I get there? Please tell me everything, I need to know.”

They approached her slowly with their small, thin translucent bodies, still holding hands. The one on the left looked at her curiously while the one on the right opened his lips and spoke again:  _ "How did you become the Mistress of Death?" _

Amalthea raised a dark, questioning eyebrow. "I became the Mistress of Death by gathering all three of the Deathly Hallows."

_ "So you have Thanatos' blessing and everything that comes with it." _ Explained the twin on the left.

_ "Just as I received Hecate's blessing." _ The one on the right continued.

Amalthea heard a breathless sound from the other ghosts, while her eyes widened in surprise. She knew those names, she knew what it was all about... Every family in the wizarding world had a patron god or goddess. Sirius told her once that the Black family prayed to Eris, the Goddess of Discord; the Malfoys to Aphrodite, the Goddess of Love and Beauty. The Weasley’s to the Goddess Hestia, who protected families and the home, although Fred and George also chose Loki, the God of Mischief; and the Potter family was devoted to Thanatos, the God of Death. However, everyone would always say another name in their prayers... the name of Hecate, the Goddess of Magic.

_ "What are you trying to say?" _ She asked, her voice sounding slightly stunned.

For the first time since they were summoned the brothers released their hands, which until then had always been linked, and the twin on the right came forward. His steps were silent, his breathing was nonexistent. When he was inches away from Amalthea, he extended his right hand, turned it over, and showed her his palm. There, in the center of the skin, something that resembled a six-petaled flower or a six-pointed star was drawn, surrounded by a small ring; around it, a continuous black line slid like a snake in a labyrinth of ink, closed again in a circle.

Instinctively, Amalthea raised her own right hand, pale and elegant, and traced the mark engraved in black on her left wrist: A line, inside a circle, inside a triangle...

_ “On your flesh, you have the mark of Thanatos. You’ve collected the Deathly Hallows, yes... But that was not enough to become the Mistress of Death: your soul had to be read, it had to be tested, and that mark on your skin is proof that you passed the test. You are the Mistress of Death because Thanatos choose you, not just because you have the three Deathly Hallows in your possession. The mark is proof of his acceptance and blessing.” _

A shiver ran through Amalthea's body, running through her skin and ruffling the hair on the back of her neck and arms.

Out of the corner of her eye, she vowed to see a shadow, and when she decided to find out, her suspicions were confirmed.  _ He _ stood by the door, with large dark wings, dressed in black robes and a huge sickle with a sharp blade in his pale hand. She couldn't see his face, hidden in the darkness of the hood, but she knew he was looking at her. Suddenly, she felt an icy touch in her magic and another entity in her head, which strangely brought her a feeling of comfort in those storms of feelings. She closed her eyes appreciatively, admired by the sensation that the presence brought her, and when she opened them again, the figure was no longer there.

One of the Peverell twins continued to speak as if he had never stopped, and Amalthea knew that her interaction with the black-winged being didn’t take more than a measly second  _ “I, however, carry with me the blessing of Hecate. The question is how... Well, for that we have to go back to that stormy night again as you heard in the story... it rained so much that night and the stormed raged, thunder roared and lightning flashed overhead as if there was no end, no one in my village would have peace as long as that damned storm raged that night continued. The cattle got loose outside and as much as the desire for the warmth of the house was strong, we knew it would be a while before we returned. The cattle were our livelihood: wool, cheese, and meat were the way to earn enough money to put food on the table and we needed it more than ever since my mother was pregnant and close to giving birth. _

_ > We had brought all of them together when that damn horse that always gave us trouble ran away again. It was my dad's favorite horse, but I've always hated the animal since I fell off of him when I was younger. I still ran after him anyway, and even today I don't know if it was the stupidest decision I ever made or not. I was in the forest for what seemed like hours. I felt the rain on my skin, weighing my clothes, running through my hair, and blurring my vision. I was chilled to the bone, didn't know which way to go. Then I saw the flames rise through the leaves and trees, covering everything around me in a furious roar. The fire had given me a vision in the dark night just to leave me with a horrible notion: I knew I would die, I was inside a circle of fire surrounded by red hot flames everywhere. I was going to die trying to find a stupid horse that I never liked… _

_ > It was then that I prayed to the Mother Goddess, I'm not sure why. It must have been fear, even though I was paralyzed where I was standing... I had a huge lump in my throat, I felt that I needed to do something, I was always told to pray in my moments of need and the gods would hear my prayers. So I prayed for help, I begged for a few more years of life, and if that wasn't possible, I begged for a death at that was at least painless… I heard a  _ boom _ even louder than the crack of lightning, and I don't remember much more of those moments that I saw the living flames approaching me.  _

_ > When I opened my eyes, I was surrounded by white, ice, and snow made my clothes hard and cold... I didn't know anything around me, so I tried to keep my body warm, I put my hands over my mouth in a vain attempt to warm them up. Then I saw the Wheel of Hecate in my palm... and I knew that the Goddess had saved me, she saw my soul and decided to grant me mercy, she did not let me die with the flesh melting from my body with the heat of fire that would swallow me. I was found shortly afterward, with happy tears streaming down my face murmuring thanks to the Goddess, and I have not stopped thanking Hecate ever since.” _

The attention was all on the Peverell brother, now known as Harlan, the Missing Twin, who turned silent and returned to Hamish who was watching him with affection and admiration.

The light outside the windows disappeared, the sun giving way to the moon and stars, the dark night closing in on the streets of London. Amalthea felt exhausted as she leaned her back in the comfort of the soft pillows. Her mind worked over and over, repeating mentally every word.

Lily's icy touch had been loving when she stroked her shoulder. Her father, Sirius and Remus exchanged glances and murmured phrases too low for her ears to capture what was being said, and when Amalthea glanced at Fred, who had never left the place beside her, he only had eyes for young woman. There was a soft expression on his freckled face and a question in his eyes.

Harlan Peverell approached the fireplace with a joyful leap in his young walk, despite bringing wisdom in his dark brown eyes. The flame was high after Kreacher put more wood on the fire, and women in red and orange dresses danced in the flames.

His voice was nothing more than a whisper when he spoke again, but it still conveyed a certain power and strength when he was heard by the people in the living room:  _ "I spent years and years wondering. How was it possible? Why me? Why there? Why at that moment? Why, why, why...? Nothing made sense to me... I was in a new world, a world that was not mine, alive and safe... But I wanted to know why and wanted to know how to get back. I tried to get my hands on most of the books in that world, tried to listen to every legend ever made, tried to ask the gods... but in that place, the gods were different and just didn't respond to outsiders. So I made a house for myself in that place, I made friends, lived adventures, but always wondered what happened. Years later, on my deathbed, I heard the voice of the Goddess when I was about to close my eyes. She told me that she took pity on me, felt my fear, and did not want to see one of her children die when I had given her something so good. I didn't understand it at the time, but she made a point of explaining it to me… _

_ > She explained to me how the four elements were active that night: the heavy rain that fell abundantly, the north wind that carried everything in its path, the heat of the flames in the fire that slowly devoured the forest, and the earth that was being fed by the water of life which restored its strength. Magic was in the air, the four elements in harmony. And then, without even knowing it, I gave her something that night: a Blood Sacrifice. My blood and the blood of the stallion that had long been lost in the sea of flames. She told me how nothing could have happened... But then I prayed for her, and the forces of the ritual - even if involuntary - granted my wish and saved my life." _

The man in a boy's body then looked at Amalthea, the young woman who was the last of his family line and the hope of his blood. He joined his brother, and their translucent bodies flickered for a moment when they linked hands once more.

_ "Gather water, earth, fire, and air. Make the sacrifice and your soul will be tested. And it is so, Amalthea Potter, Mistress of Death, that you can have what you want." _


	5. Chapter III

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm sorry that this chapter took a month to post. As I said before unfortunately my grandma passed away and it has been very hard to accept. Beside that my laptop decided to give me problems and I can't barely use it anymore (it is very slow that would make turtles jealous). I probably will have to pay someone to fix it and try to write and post on my phone (which I hate) 😭  
> Thank you everyone who reads this story!

That night had been long and endless. There was a lot to discuss, a lot of things to deal with and put in order. It was all too much for a moment, exhaustion dominated the body of the young Potter, and even the dead who could never feel tired pretended for a moment.

Was that even what Amalthea really wanted? She  _ knew  _ she wanted to leave, she needed a break, a break from everything and everyone that tormented her. She wanted to feel like she was the owner of her life, the lady of her destiny. She wanted to live for herself for the first time and not carry the problems of so many others on her shoulders as she had to carry all these years… But leaving for another world? It was scary... So much could go wrong. What if Hecate didn't hear her prayers? What _ if  _ the Goddess listened and granted her wish but Amalthea could never return? What if she could never see Hermione, Ron, the Weasley's, Neville, Luna, Andromeda, and her little Teddy, who needed her so badly?

Seeing her discomfort and doubts, James said: _“Nobody is forcing you to go, pup. You don't have to do anything you don't want to do. ”_

_"Yes..."_ confirmed Fred. _"Choose what you think will make you happy and not others."_

Amalthea heard their words but doubts were still firmly implanted in her mind. “Teddy needs me. Traveling to another country is one thing, but traveling to another world with no guarantee of ever being able to return is another. If I went and never came back, Teddy would feel like I left him and I can't do that to him.”

_"Oh, Thea..."_ began Remus, with his scars glowing in the light of the flames from the fireplace and from the candles that Kreacher had lit all over the place. _“Teddy would always know that his godmother loved him and cared for him. He might not understand for a while, but he would never blame you for anything. ”_

Amalthea's long hair was now gathered at the top of her head, her legs curled up on the sofa and in her beautiful dark blue dress. She hid her face in her hands and stifled a frustrated cry: “Remus, I promised that I would protect and love him as if he was mine. He has already lost so much, he lost you… I don't want to add more pain to that poor innocent baby.”

_"Then take him with you."_ Suggested Sirius, with an air of uncertainty in his aristocratic features.

"No!" Thea had been quick to reject that suggestion with a heavy heart. “It’s too dangerous, we don't even know if it will work. That boy is the last spark of hope in Andromeda's life now that she has no one left, I would never take him away from her.”

_“Tonks and I decided that you were the best choice for Teddy's godmother because we knew you were the right person to love and protect him, and we never regretted that choice. Teddy is my son and I love him with every bit of me and every part of my soul, but I love you too. And I know you've suffered too much, and you've sacrificed almost everything you had. So I assure you here and now, and if you want to summon Tonks she'll say the same as I... It's okay to choose this for you. Teddy will be safe with Andromeda, she will ensure that he always knows how much his godmother loves him, just as his parents do.”_ Remus Lupin spoke in a voice so calm, full of feelings and assurances, that it brought thick tears to Amalthea's eyes for a moment.

Life was so unfair for some people…

She left her face hidden in her hands while weighing the pros and cons. It was so risky and scary to go out like that blindly, having no idea what would be on the other side... But the idea of a new beginning and an adventure... An adventure that she chose to have was so tempting. Finally, after several minutes of reflection, she raised her head and looked intently at the twins who remained quiet for most of the night.

"Can you promise me that it will work?” The woman wanted to know. She needed something: a guarantee, a word of comfort, a hope to hold on to...

Hamish Peverell shook his head full of black hair: _"We can't guarantee that, Amalthea Potter... The choice is in the hands of the goddess..."_

Harlan, the Missing Twin, continued the sentence where the other brother stopped: _“We can, however, guarantee that if it works, you will have a life that you will never forget...”_

_"And you will never be the same again."_ Together they concluded, their voices as nearly as identical as the rest of their carnal similarities.

The conversation went on until the sun came up, and the pale icy morning light came in through the window. Amalthea had spent the night awake, listening to all the information that Harlan had about this world. The young spirit told her about its lands, its people, and its legends. He informed her that the man who had saved him so many years ago was a man named Torrhen Stark, who was once a king, but in those days he was no longer one. He told her about how the King-Who-Knelt kept him safe in his stone castle, in the lands of snow, fed him and gave him a place to rest. He talked about Targaryens, Lannisters, Martells, and all the other important houses and informed her of everything he remembered and that could be useful.

The lack of rest reflected in the Amalthea's figure. Her hair was slightly disheveled and dark bags over her eyes were evidenced by the skin that was getting paler.

When the twins were about to leave, Harlan said: _“I don't know how much time will have passed in Westeros or what situation you will find yourself in, when or if, you get there. I advise you, however, to trust the Starks of Winterfell. They once did me a great service, and if it weren't for them I might not have survived. They are honorable people and will help you. Tell them that you are from House Peverell, the Lady of Moat Cailin and that you have our ancestral sword, Soteira, with you. That will prove that you speak the truth.”_

Frowning in confusion, Amalthea replied, "But I don’t have that sword."

Harlan's white teeth flashed when he grinned. _"The sword will appear to those who have Peverell blood in their veins, say the name and it will show itself to you."_

The eyes of all the dead were once again on the young witch. Lily whispered beside her in encouragement as her daughter tried to summon a sword she had never seen, but which belonged to her.

With all the concentration she had managed to gather, she closed her extremely green eyes and extended her magic. Amalthea let it get out of her magic core little by little, let it roll over every inch of her skin. She thought it must be similar to when she summoned the Twins. She imagined the sharp blade, and the hilt held and balanced in her hand. Thought of the magic and Peverell’s blood that ran through her body and veins. _The sword is mine_ , she said in her mind. _It belongs to me. I want it..._

Suddenly she felt a weight in her hand and smiled when she opened her eyes and looked at the sword that was now hers.

Amalthea carefully examined it. It was long and heavy, a perfect weight for her. The hilt was black and beautiful, with delicate veins and details in silver, and in the shape of a half-moon but she could handle it perfectly. As she unsheathed the sword, she watched as the sun's rays from the windows rested on the metal of the blade, a spotlight reflected off blinding everyone for a mere moment. Amalthea let her gaze travel the blade… it was extremely sharp, long, and well cared, made from a material that she had never seen before. She followed the entire length of the flat side of the blade with her fingers, feeling the material cold to the touch, and finding herself gently caressing the word written there: Peverell. Just like Gryffindor's sword, Harlan Peverell's sword had his name engraved on it in beautiful and intricate work. The sword - Soteira, as it was called - was beautiful and perfect for Amalthea.

"What material is this made from?" She questioned.

_ "Valyrian steel imbued in my blood and magic. It is lighter, stronger, and sharper than an ordinary sword. During my time in Westeros, I did plenty of research, and, I learned a few things.. I tried to get my hands on each piece of Valyrian Steel I could find and I forged it into a sword, again. Magic helped, of course. The inserted blood ensures that it can only be wielded by a Peverell, in other hands the sword will feel very heavy and uncomfortable. It will have no use for others, but it may be essential for you." _

Amalthea nodded understandingly, admiring the intricate work done on the sword before snapping it back into the dark leather sheath. She carefully laid it down on the sofa, freed the satin of the dress from her, stood up, and approached the twins with careful steps.

She looked at their face features: almond-shaped eyes, a small and straight nose, the lower lip slightly thicker than the upper, and a smooth jaw. She now saw her father's smile on Hamish and Harlan Peverell's lips, and her own nose. Thea felt extremely hot when she recognized that... her whole life she wondered where her genes came from, what her family would be like and now she had the opportunity to meet two of them.

"Thank you for everything, really. I have no words to express how grateful I am for all your help."

Hamish smiled playfully and Harlan smiled too, beautifully as his brother: _"You're welcome, Amalthea Potter... You bring pride to the Peverell family_."

Harlan continued, now with a certain seriousness in his brown eyes: _"It is our pleasure to help. However, I have a request."_

"Anything... Ask and it will be done." The young woman assured him while her family looked at each other.

_ "Restore our House to its former glory. I don’t know how you will find Moat Cailin or if anyone still loyal to me lives there, but if you can, guarantee a future for our House. Here you are the last of our lineage but we want to see our blood and magic alive once again. You can change our banners and change our words to those that please you the most. But don't let House Peverell be forgotten, nor our gratitude to the Goddess." _

Determination filled Thea's eyes that shone like a thousand stars in the night sky, with a green fire inside. "I assure you that I will not rest until this is done and I will spend my whole life trying to fulfill that desire."

The small bodies flickered for a second while an air of satisfaction filled the faces of the thirteen-year-old twins.

_"We truly appreciate it. We wish you the best future, Amalthea Potter."_ And with those words, the Peverell Twins disappeared as if they had never been there.

Behind them they left a soft silence interrupted only by the crackle of the remains of wood in the fire that was almost extinguished, by the sounds of songbirds and the sounds of cars driving on the asphalt road.

Amalthea took a deep breath, feeling the fresh air that came in through the now open window, fill her lungs. She peeked outside to see a postman heading for a house across the road, rummaging through his bag. Some children were walking, still very sleepy, on their way to school and their parents watched them go on their way while they prepared themselves for work.

After some time of observation and thought, she rolled gently on her bare heels and smiled at the remaining spirits who never left her.

"Well… you already know what my decision is."

And even if she had said nothing, if she had never let a single word escape her lips, everyone in that house knew what decision had been made.

-

She decided, however, to wait for a certain moment to leave. That would give her time to put her duties in order and spend time with her loved ones, Teddy most of all. As much as possible.

She still remembered when she told Andromeda about her decision. Teddy slept in Amalthea's arms and Remus and Tonks watched the baby's features next to the chair where Thea was sitting. The moment Thea explained the situation and her decision to the other, a mixture of emotions shook the woman so much like her playful cousin. Despair, betrayal, a little anger and, deep down, understanding.

"Do you intend to take Teddy with you?" Questioned the gray-eyed woman uncertainly.

"No, Andromeda, you know I would never do that to you and I would never risk Teddy's safety, in my life," Amalthea assured her, with a loving look focused on the boy's chubby cheeks. She played with his small hands and kissed each little finger. "You need him and he needs you, I would never separate the two of you."

"He needs you, too."

"Not the way he will always need his grandma."

"We can go with you!" Said Andromeda, who deep down also needed an escape from so much suffering. Every time she closed her eyes she could see her husband, her son-in-law, and her beloved daughter with her bubblegum hair.

"And leave everything you know? Would you leave your home, the memories of your family, and your happy moments? Would you let Teddy be without the memories of his parents? Would you deny him of the great future he can have walking in Hogwarts corridors and following Remus and Tonks’ footsteps?"

"Their memories are too painful," Andromeda confessed, wanting to cry. 

Beside her, Tonks' hair turned gray when she felt her mother's sadness. _"Tell her everything is alright and that I will always be here._ "

"Tonks is here Dromeda, as well as Remus. Your daughter hasn't left your side for even a second since The Battle. She says that everything is fine and that it is not bad to cry if you need it. But you can't let the sadness that you feel replace the happiness that you may feel one day."

Tears poured into the older woman's aristocratic features when she sobbed, "I know Thea, believe me, I know."

Amalthea remained silent letting the other have her moment, and looked back at her when Andromeda wiped her tears with a pearl white tissue.

"I intend to name Teddy heir to the Potter and Black family." Said Amalthea, at last, and without further ado.

A shocked expression was on everyone's face - living and dead - when Thea had said those words.

"Are you sure?" Andromeda asked.

"Of course I am. Teddy has the Black blood in his veins and it was always my intention to make him the heir of that line. No offense, but I prefer it to be him than Draco. Narcissa may have saved my life once, but I don't want to see the future of the Black Family in their hands. I don't forget their side in the war."

"But what about the Potters?"

"I am the last Potter, but where I’m going I will use another name. We can change his name to Edward Remus Lupin Potter-Black but that would be too much of a mouthful. He may not even use the name Potter-Black, but he will be the heir to those lines. One day when he is an adult and already has his own children, they will inherit it too. One could be Lupin-Potter and another Lupin-Black or as he wishes." Amalthea explained. "I have already taken care of everything with the goblins and opened an account in Teddy's name. He will have money that will last him a lifetime and a few more generations, and as long as he is a minor you will be managing that money in the best way. The rest I’ll take to help me with anything I need."

Andromeda nodded understandingly in her black mourning dress: "If that is your wish."

"It is." Amalthea confirmed, kissing the baby's soft forehead. "You will also have Kreacher to help you, and Grimmauld Place is now in your name. Kreacher!"

The old house-elf appeared with a pop!, wearing clean white robes with the Black Family crest on it and a copy of Slytherin's medallion around his neck. "Yes, Mistress?"

"Kreacher, you'll be staying with Andromeda from now on." Amalthea informed.

The elf took a shocked deep breath, opened his eyes wide, threw himself at her feet and started to cry. "No, please, Mistress, don't leave Kreacher."

"Kreacher…" Thea started to say, looking sad at the poor thing. "It won't be safe for you. I don't even know if it will be safe for me."

"Kreacher is a good elf, he served the Black family for several years!" The little being squeaked as he pulled his long ears in an act of desperation. "Let Kreacher go with you, don't leave Kreacher like Master Regulus did. Kreacher can't handle such pain."

Amalthea's heart weighed with those words and she tried to swallow the guilt that dominated her.

"Oh Kreacher..." Said Thea, with tenderness in her voice looking at the elf who years ago had been so bitter and grumpy but who had changed when he knew he was loved. "I only want the best for you, and here you will be safe."

“Kreacher will go wherever you go. Kreacher will not abandon his Mistress.” The little wrinkled one said, with a determination in his big ball-shaped-eyes that reminded her so much of Dobby. "Kreacher will be safe with you. Who will protect Mistress other than Kreacher? No, no, no." He tapped his small foot on the floor, making a sound that woke Teddy out of his sleep. "Mistress have to take Kreacher, please. Please, please!"

"Are you sure you want to go?" Amalthea asked.

"Yes, Mistress." Kreacher confirmed with confidence in the old face. "Kreacher wants to go with his Mistress, yes he does."

"Alright then. You will go with me, don't worry."

Amalthea kissed his little bald head and after a few more assurances on her part, and little sniffles on the part of the elf, Kreacher returned home after his big scare.

On her lap, Teddy moved. He yawned, moved his chubby legs and arms, and smiled at the young woman who was already smiling brightly at him. His beautiful hair slowly changed to black and his eyes turned to exactly the same shade of green. He seemed to be her son, but he wasn't. He might not have been a son of her body, but he was a son in her heart.

"Look who's awake." Amalthea commented cheerfully, gently poking his tummy and listening to the beautiful baby laughs. "This little one must be hungry."

And in fact he was. After a whole bottle of warm milk, which Teddy eagerly drank, the little boy fell asleep once again in his godmother's arms.

"You are so good for him." Andromeda commented on the other chair where she was admiring the scene, tenderly. "Are you sure you don't want to stay?"

"I need this, Dromeda. I know you understand. There is nothing I want more than to take you with me, but it is too risky. I hope I can come back but if I can't, please promise me that he will know that I love him. Tell him how much it cost me to make this decision and how much my heart broke at the thought of not seeing him once more. Please tell him..."

"Every day..." guaranteed Andromeda. "There won't be a single day when I don't repeat those words to him."

Amalthea knew how much she would miss that sweet boy. She would miss his baby scent, his soft turquoise hair that he intended to turn black when she was close to him, his small weight in her arms and his beautiful laughs... She took thousands of pictures: some of all of them (Hermione, the Weasley's, Andromeda, Teddy, and Amalthea), others with godmother and godson, and others of only her… She wrote letters, dozens and dozens of them that Teddy would read when he was older, explaining why she had to do what she did, guaranteeing that leaving him was never her intention... that she loved him more than anything in this world.

In the time she decided to wait, Amalthea wanted to learn everything she considered useful for that medieval world. She began to practice with the sword and the nights, when she returned home with her body full of bruises, were immense. She learned to use a dagger and a bow and arrow. Learned how to sew and embroider, to heal wounds with and without magic. Thea learned everything that could guarantee greater protection and survival.

Without realizing it, the days went by quickly. Days passed to weeks and weeks passed to months. It was now June and the Summer Solstice was getting closer and closer.

Her days were mainly training and more training, hours of preparation - she wanted to make sure she didn't miss anything - and to enjoy the time with her loved ones.

That day, after ensuring that everything was ready, In the late afternoon Amalthea was in the garden of The Burrow. A large, aged wooden table had been set on the green grass, with white plates full of food that smelled wonderfully. There was hot bread and butter, strawberry jam and pear jam. There was chicken just out of the oven and chips that Ron had been quick to get his hands on, molasses pie, pumpkin juice and peaches dipped in honey.

The Weasley family made tremendous noise, everyone talking loudly to each other with their faces almost as red as their hair due to the heat. Hermione and Andromeda were in a small corner of the table talking about politics, Luna's blonde hair waved in the wind when she jumped with the intention of catching a butterfly with blue wings and Teddy laughing beside her on the soft grass while soap bubbles of different colors fled by the tip of the younger Potter's wand. Neville was unable to come that day but Amalthea had already said goodbye to her good friend.

Thea smiled brightly when she saw that Teddy's hairs changed quickly like a rainbow to match every bubble the baby saw. She kissed his chubby cheeks and whispered that she loved him.

Mrs.Weasley sniffed as she placed a plate of chocolate chip cookies on the table, and fixed Amalthea with an extremely sad and tearful look. Thea showed her an encouraging expression and the matriarch fled into the house again, rubbing her eyes furiously.

"Hello, Thea." A voice beside her said. It was Luna, who had finally left her game and sat beside her, smiling at the summer breeze that hit her milk-colored skin. The pale green dress she wore made the little blonde look like a fairy.

"Hello, Luna. I see you got tired of the butterflies."

"They are the ones who got tired of me. It doesn't matter, today is a special day and later the fireflies will replace the butterflies."

"Yes," agreed the black-haired woman. "Yes, it is."

The blonde hummed softly and popped a yellow bubble with her index finger. She focused her bright blue eyes on Thea's greens and said, "Oh Amalthea Potter, if you only knew the brilliant things that are in your path. You were born to do wonderful things, but be careful with the Nargles, as they are now in disguise. The smell of wolf will protect you, but those golden monsters just want chaos, and you have the misfortune to always seem to be involved in the disorder that others cause. "

Just as Luna had appeared, she left, went to the table and took a slice of bread buttered. Amalthea smiled at her friend's strangeness, but thought carefully about her warning. Teddy screamed out loud in amazement when a red bubble burst on his forehead and Thea screamed together, taking the baby in her arms and gently tossing him into the air.

And so the hours of what might have been her last day in the magical world passed, amid laughter and smiles, hugs and beautiful words. The blue sky had darkened as small stars appeared in the black expanse and the full moon came up, finally reflecting its pale light in the lake near the red-haired family's home.

"Look at Teddy, the moon." Pointed Amalthea, cozy in a tree with her godson in her lap. “Do you know what that means? It's time of the wolf. Do you know how to howl like a wolf?”

Teddy's little face showed extreme confusion when Amalthea turned her head to a bright and very high moon, and a huge howl escaped from her throat. Her friends fell silent, listened, and laughed out loud when Teddy clapped and did the same thing, even without knowing why.

“It's time.” She commented with the others. The effect was immediate and extremely sad smiles adorned their faces. Amalthea felt like crying but she controlled it, unlike Molly and Hermione who tried to contain their sobs. Hugs were exchanged, sad but hopeful words were said.

Amalthea hugged Teddy tightly, not wanting to let go of the boy. She kissed him a thousand times... and a thousand more. “Oh Teddy, your godmother loves you. You are so loved, my little wolf. Never forget that.” She wondered if her own mother was like this in her last moments with her daughter: with tears in her eyes, a tightness in her throat that almost prevented her from talking and a heavy heart.

"I’ll see you again one day." Thea assured, taking one last glimpse of her friends. And with a twist on her heels and a _pop!_ the young Potter disappeared in the air


	6. Chapter IV

The moon was high in the sky, shining pale and extremely round. The hot summer air tinted Amalthea's cheeks with pink when she lit purple wax candles, the small flames resembling red fireflies in the night. Blue, white, and yellow flowers covered the clearing floor, along with the green of the damp grass.

She was within the figure formed by the candles: a full moon flanked by two half-moons; a waxing crescent and a waning crescent 

Her place was inside the half-moon on the left, while Kreacher's place was on the right, each with a bowl of crystal water in front of them. In the center of the full moon drawn on the floor, a silver bowl was also there, this one full of red blood instead of water.

"You don't have to stay, Kreacher." The woman whispered in a low voice, but Kreacher was still able to hear her in the silence of the night.

“Kreacher will stay. Kreacher will follow his Mistress wherever she goes.” Said the old house-elf, with a strong nod that made his big ears dangle.

"Very well then."

The woman knelt and placed her hands on the ground, feeling the fresh grass on her skin and burying her fingers in the earth. On the other side, Kreacher did the same. They both let their magic extend, letting it slide from their hands to the ground and listening to it crackle with vividness.

She took a deep breath, thinking about what it would mean for her and her own. If it didn't work, she assumed there would be no harm, would visit new countries and cultures. She would go to Portugal, Brazil, Canada, and so many others places as she always imagined doing.

If it worked, she would have a new start and a new adventure, along with Kreacher. However, she would have to abandon her friends and loved ones without the certainty of returning.

Before she could regretted it - she wasted too much time and energy to regret it now - she spoke, pronouncing each word slowly and correctly, in a tone that conveyed confidence, even if she didn’t feel so very courageous…

_ “Tonight I invoke the Element of Earth, I call for the protectors of the forests and the recipients of peace, Earth hear my call. I invoke the Element of Air, the protectors of the mind and the world, bearers of the history of life, Air hear my call. I invoke the Element of Fire, I call for the hot warriors and the protectors of the faith, Fire hear my words. And finally, I invoke the Element of Water, I call on the muses of emotions and the purifiers of the flesh and soul, Water hear my call. Forces of Nature, tonight I invoke you!” _

An earthy smell filled the air as Amalthea spoke these words in a strong voice and with her green eyes hidden by closed eyelids. The forest around her whispered as if it were alive and had heard her, the ground beneath her vibrated and trembled as if thousands of feet hit it at that moment. The hot summer air had now been replaced by a cool breeze, a gust swirled over and over, carrying green leaves and freshly plucked petals, white, blue and yellow, in a hurricane of color around them.

The flames of the candles suddenly grew in size, bringing scorching heat with them in the form of dancers in yellow, orange, and red dresses, which swirled and swayed the red-hot bodies in the darkness of the night. The firelight created strange shadows in each corner, tall and small, thin, and wide shadows. Between the leaves of the trees, tiny drops of rainfall, quickly turning into a sudden rain. Amalthea smiled as she felt it, the drops of water running down her face like cold tears.

She laughs relieved, with a feeling of euphoria moving through every piece of her body and every inch of her skin. Amid the high whistle of the wind, Amalthea continued as her magic simmered along with the different magic of Kreacher, the elf...

_ “Oh Mother-Goddess, Lady of the Moon and its three phases. Oh Goddess, Lady of Fire and Plants, Lady of the Wild Lands and Childbirth. Blessed with magic and witchcraft, I come before you today as your humble servant, as your needy daughter. Oh Goddess who walks barefoot in the dark night, wild with snakes wrapped around your beautiful body, you who travels with dogs and ghosts without rest.” _ She took a deep breath, exchanging a look with Kreacher, who nodded, prepared for what would follow.

Each one took a small silver dagger that glowed menacingly in the light of the high flames. They turned in their places and faced each other, both soaked to the bone, surrounded by the Spirits of Nature who seemed to laugh in happiness with an almost childlike liveliness. Both blades were extremely sharp and they  _ knew it _ because it went through the skin of the palm of their right hand as if it were nothing as if the flesh was nothing more than paper or water. A long cut opened quickly, overflowing in a sea of crimson. They let the rivers of blood join the blood that was already in the silver bowl, in the center of the full moon formed by the candles.

_ “Please accept this offer that came without malice and without ulterior motives. Accept the force that runs through my veins, investigate my soul, invade my mind in search of truth. Please, Goddess who blessed me once before with your beautiful gift, hear me in this hour of supplication. Oh Hecate, come to me.” _

Amalthea lowered the dagger and washed her hands in the clear water of the bowl in front of her. Water and blood mixed at a tremendous speed. The blood in the bowl in the center of the full moon bubbled hot and full of magic.

Suddenly, the rain stopped. The flames went out, leaving the melting purple wax behind, and the leaves and petals fell when the colored hurricane disappeared. The land was once again calm and silent.

They were left, lady and servant, alone and silent, surrounded by darkness and under the watchful eye of the moon.

They waited… and waited a little longer. "It didn’t work." Amalthea sighed sadness in her voice. "Why didn't it work?"

“Kreacher doesn't know, Mistress. Kreacher gave his Mistress all the Black’s books that mentioned invocations. There were more than thirty, Kreacher swears it.”

“I suppose I should have expected it. Nothing in my life will ever come easily, I always have to work for it. Maybe it's better this way." The black-haired woman whispered, getting up. She felt an extreme emotion of disappointment.

For a mere second she felt it had worked, the Spirits of Nature had heard her call, but even that was not enough. She grabbed her black little bag which, with an extension charm as Hermione taught her, kept everything she needed: clothes, potions, books, swords - both Gryffindor's and Sotaria's - and her box and key from the Bank of Gringotts. After all, it seemed that it would no longer be necessary.

"Come on Kreacher, there's nothing left for us here." Amalthea was preparing to leave the figure of the phases of the moon formed by the candles when unexpectedly they lit up. The flame was very high, almost reaching the tops of the trees, and Thea had to move away sharply to avoid being burned.

_ "You called and I came, my daughter." _ A voice said, loud and beautiful, a voice she never heard before.

Unable to stand, Amalthea had dropped to her knees in shock.

"Mother, you came."

_ "Amalthea Potter... Of all the mortals blessed by me, I have to say that you are by far one of my favorites." _

Among the trees, bathed in silver by the moonlight, a figure appeared. She was tall and walked barefoot, the dress was sparkling and purple, and it glided like water on her beautiful body. When Thea looked at Hecate's face, she saw the most beautiful woman in the world. Long brown hair on which a golden tiara in the shape of a crescent moon rested, pale skin and lilac eyes, a mouth with beautiful full red lips, and a straight nose.

Beside her, a huge black dog accompanied the Goddess, and a snake hissed around her waist. In her right hand Hecate held a torch of blue fire, and two spirits - a man and a maiden - were three or four steps behind her.

_ “The Mistress of Death and her house-elf. What is your name, elf?” _

The mentioned elf opened his eyes immensely, stammering in his old voice: "Kreacher, my Goddess."

_ “And do you like your lady, Kreacher? Does she treat you well?” _

“Oh, yes, Goddess. It is a joy for Kreacher to serve Amalthea Potter. She fulfilled the wish of his beloved Master, Regulus.” He showed Slytherin's locket copy. "There is nothing that Kreacher would not do for his Mistress."

_ "Very well, Kreacher, thank you."  _ The Goddess smiled such a beautiful smile that people could never imagine. _ "It's good to know, I can't stand the mortals who mistreat my little elves." _

She turned to Amalthea, who was looking at her with wide eyes. " _ What could you want from me, Mistress of Death?" _ The huge dog at her feet sniffed curiously and the snake wrapped around Hecate's curvy body hissed:  _ mistress of death, mistress of death… _

“Oh Mother-Goddess, I’m truly sorry to invoke you like this. It was not my intention to disturb you.”

_ “Don't worry, daughter. You do not disturb me and I am not bothered at all… Curious, however, I confess that I am.” _

Instinctively Amalthea looked at her tattoo on her left wrist, the Deathly Hallows mark felt hot on her skin and she felt a strange sensation of comfort.

"The story of my ancestor, Harlan Peverell, came to my knowledge and how you, oh Goddess, saved him from certain death."

Hecate nodded, the serpent's head nestled around her neck, and the woman played with the blue flames of the torch she carried without ever getting burned:  _ “Harlan Peverell… Yes, I remember well. One of my favorite children just like you, Woman-Who-Conquered.” _

Amalthea swallowed audibly, not knowing what to say. However, she didn’t need to say anything since the Goddess continued to speak.

_ “And what do you want then, Amalthea Potter? You called me, you made me a sacrifice.”  _ She gestured with her slender hand at the now empty silver bowl without a single drop of blood, and when Thea looked at the other two, they were also empty. _ "But unlike your ancestor, you are not at risk of death." _

“No, my life isn’t at risk but my soul hurts from all the sacrifices made by me, and for all those who I have lost. For my life led by others, for the youth, I didn't have. For the deaths and pain that I had to endure in a war that should never have been mine.” Amalthea said, a grey aura around her.

Hecate took pity of her and approached. The flames of the purple candles went down significantly as the goddess seemed to slide as she walked.

_ “I know your story, Heiress Potter. I have watched you since your birth and, like you, I also feel enormous sadness and pain when knowing that the gift I offered to the mortals caused so much suffering, when it fell into the wrong hands. I saw your soul, I saw your thoughts of a lifetime, and I think you deserve it. So, ask for what you want and I will make it possible.” _

Amalthea sighed with relief and felt an overwhelming desire to kiss the goddess on the beautiful face. “My wonderful Goddess, I thank you with all my soul. I hope I don't ask too much, but I also wanted to go to the world where you once sent Harlan Peverell.”

She saw that Hecate seemed to take a moment in her thoughts as she petted the black dog's head.  _ “What you ask for is possible yes, however, I must warn you that you will not return here again in this life. Are you sure you want to continue? You must have people you love, here.” _

Even though she had already imagined this situation, Amalthea's heart cried, and Teddy's face, with his big cheeks, short turquoise hair, and bright little eyes, appeared in her mind. _ I'll never see him again _ , she thought.  _ I'm so sorry, my little wolf, I hope you can forgive me. _

"I already imagined it, but I will move on with my decision."

_ "Very well... I see that you want to take your elf too." _

"If I’m not asking too much, yes, I would like to take him with me."

Hecate sang:  _ "You don’t, but he cannot go like this." _ She waved a hand and a purple cloud surrounded Kreacher who was startled. A sweet smell from different plants remained in the air, and when the mist released the elf, he was not the same.

Well, he was and he wasn't at the same time. Amalthea could still feel his magic, but he was no longer an elf, but a man. He was slightly shorter than Thea, with fair, wrinkled skin and little white hairs on an almost bald head.

The now human Kreacher looked at his hands confusedly and felt the skin on his face.

_ “Wherever you go, elves do not exist. It will be better this way, you will have to look and act like a man. You can choose a new name if you want. I imagine that Kreacher is not normal among humans.” _

_ For some it is!  _ Thea thought. She still remembered being a little girl and thinking that her name was  _ Freak _ , because that was what her awful family called her. She didn’t like to remember those days, but unfortunately, it was something that would never leave her alone.

Trying to think of other things, she looked at Kreacher: “You can choose your new name if you want. Or you can decide to stay Kreacher. It's your decision."

She thought she saw Hecate smiling with her words, but when she looked, the Goddess looked at the ancient elf with curiosity.

“I wouldn't know which one to choose, Madam. Kreacher is everything I have ever known.” Kreacher said softly.

"Choose a name you like." Advised Amalthea.

She saw the old man's concentration face as it took him a few minutes to decide. "Kadeem." He said at last. “I would like to be called Kadeem, Mistress.

"Kadeem..." Thea tested the name and smiled brightly. "I like it, I like it a lot."

There was a hissing sound and the big green snake clinging to the beautiful goddess, hissed:  _ Servant, servant... Servant turned into man, the elf turned into human... _

Hecate smiled: _ "Are you ready, Mistress of Death?" _

“Yes, Mother-Goddess. I'm more than ready.”

At that moment there was an extremely loud sound that made man and woman cover their ears to try to muffle it. The black dog barked lying at the feet of the Goddess, the snake hissed, and furious lightning tore through the skies and stars.

A purple hurricane surrounded Amalthea's body, and she thought it had happened to Kreacher as well as she heard his startled cry. She closed her eyes that were tearing with the force of the wind and heard the words of the Goddess in her mind.

_ "Good luck then, Amalthea Potter, bearer of the Blessing of Thanatos and bearer of the Blessing of Hecate." _

And after that, Amalthea didn't remember anything else.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Here is the new chapter! Thank you all for your amazing support, really you guys don't know how much you make me happy.  
> I know some of you expected this chapter to be in Westeros (you must be tired of waiting I know) but I promise the next chapter we will be finally there!


	7. Chapter V

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Okay guys, can someone please explain to me how this boring story have already more than 5k hits, 100 bookmarks and 200 kudos here, as well as more than 3k reads on Wattpad? You guys are amazing. To celebrate it (as long as the fact I reached 300 followers on Wattpad) and because I don't want to let you guys wait more, here is chapter five where Amalthea finally arrived to Westeros. More important, the Starks appear in this chapter.  
> Hope you like it, and thank you so much for everything.
> 
> P.s: I hope there is no mistakes. If there is, please let me now.
> 
> Follow me on wattpad and instagram if you can, my account is MidnightsTouch in both of them.

When the woman woke up, her body was lying on the floor. Kreacher, now Kadeem, shook her gently: “Mistress, Mistress. It worked! Look, look! The Goddess has granted you her Blessing. ”

Amalthea sat shivering and watched the world around her. They were once again in a forest but this was different from the one they left behind. Trees and more trees, and a distant sun in the sky.

“We must be in Westeros then. But how far from Winterfell?"

"I don't know, Mistress." Kreacher said as confused as she was.

Amalthea reached for her wand and launched an _Four-Point Spell_ , the wand's wood turned slightly, and like a compass, pointed to the North.

"Well, the North is over there." Thea said out, "And if the North is that way, so is Winterfell."

"Maybe if we go over there, first." Suggested Kreacher, pointing to the right. "I seem to see a sign of a road, Mistress."

Amalthea followed the direction the old man was pointing and recognized what he was saying. "Well done Kadeem, yes, I see it too! Come on, it should be safer than staying in this forest."

They advanced through the trees with careful steps, observing their surroundings. Birds chirped through branches and leaves, and a rabbit hopped nearby.

Finally, on the road, Amalthea noticed their change in clothing. Kreacher, old, small, and wrinkled, had his feet in black boots. He wore matching pants, a warm green tunic, and a thick gray cloak over his shoulders.

Amalthea however, no longer had her comfortable jeans and white shirt from before, but rather a greyish-blue dress, extremely beautiful but extremely heavy. She wore very warm brown pants and boots hidden inside the skirts. Over her shoulders, a cloak of medium size and of something that looked like wolf fur, of a gray shade darker than the color of her dress, and around her neck she had small shiny jewels. Thea had Soteira attached to her waist, and the additional weight was good and workable.

Thea wouldn't lie, she liked dresses now which was strange because years ago she would never have dared to wear one. But Sirius had taught her everything about her family and her beautiful ancestors looking like queens in elegant dresses, and then Thea had begun to see the charm… Perhaps, the reason that the idea of getting all dressed up sounded nicer because, that was a way of feeling a closer connection to her magical family.

She imagined that here, in this medieval world, dresses were something she would wear often. But every now and then, she would wear comfortable pants and boots, and no one would dare her otherwise.

Thea was warm, but not warm enough. She cast a heating spell on herself and Kreacher, which he thanked, and returned the wand to its holster tied to her right arm. There it became invisible, hidden inside the holster and the long sleeve, as well as the Elder Wand on her left arm.

Opening her right hand, she saw the Wheel of Hecate drawn on the palm - where the cut used to be -, a crossroads of lines and more lines like a labyrinth of ink. The Goddess had finally blessed her and the mark was on her skin for everyone's eyes. The mark was beautiful, just like the one that she had already engraved on her left wrist. It made her feel good.

"Let's go then." She said to Kreacher, moving forward.

They walked for what seemed like a probable twenty minutes or maybe it was only half an hour, always following the dirt path when they saw an old wooden sign by the side of the road.

"Kingsroad." Amalthea read it. "Well, we already know where we are. And we know that Winterfell is that way, so if we follow this path, we might get there more quickly."

The man nodded understandingly and suddenly opened his eyes wide, muttered something under his breath, and grabbed something attached to his belt.

"Here, Mistress." Kreacher said, in a hurry. He handed her a little black bag. "It was lying by your side when you were unconscious."

Thea looked at it, scared. Only now, looking at the bag in her hand, noticed that it was missing. She didn't want to imagine herself without it, it was too valuable. _Stop being distracted, Potter, there is no time for mistakes here_ , she thought angrily to herself.

"Oh, thank you, Kadeem." She tied it to her waist, in the same belt as the sword was, and continued walking. "Now remember, it is better if we don’t stop for anything, as we don't know the region. Harlan said that the Starks are trustworthy and I believe in his words, but even so, we will have to see for ourselves. Besides that, we don't know anyone here and we don't know how they will act, here we are open and an easy target. Someone can try an ambush, so let's proceed with caution from now on. "

"I see, Mistress, you are absolutely right. Krea… I mean, Kadeem will do as you say."

"Then we should start walking."

And so they gave themselves up to the journey, following the dirt road and hoping to reach their destination. They walked for what seemed like hours and as Amalthea predicted, they met a few people in the meantime. Two men sitting on a cart carried by a small mule that breathed extremely tired, and another man on an old brown horse. Neither showed any bad intentions towards the two, but they didn’t hide the suspicious looks on their faces.

Their feet ached from walking, and little by little the sun had gone down, bringing a colder climate with it, but both were protected by the fur cloaks and the heat spell. Apparition would be easier, Amalthea was aware ... but apparating in a place she had never seen or been before could be dangerous, and the last thing the woman needed was to have her body separated, and different body parts being thrown into different corners of this world. No, thank you very much. Walking is the only option. There should not be much more of walking.

And in fact, she was right. Not far away, perhaps a few hundred meters away, they saw the high stone walls. The orange and red light of the setting sun gave the huge castle a majestic aura. It was magnificent, with a set of impressive tall towers. It reminded her so much of Hogwarts - her real home -, although it was a lot different from the old magic castle.

They were quick to stride up to the elegant gate, flanked by walls over twenty meters long and two bastions carved into the stone. Two guards that looked straight and efficient, made a sudden sound when the outsiders approached.

"Stop! Who comes there?"

The woman advanced calmly while being watched by the two rigid men. "Good afternoon. My companion and I traveled for a long time and from a place miles and miles from here. Our bodies are absurdly tired and, if it weren't too much, we expected to find refuge within these huge walls.”

The two guards exchanged a look, but other than that, they didn’t react. Both continued their important task, guarding the huge gate, with hands resting on the pommel of swords. Amalthea was unmoved by her lack of answer, and continued: "Could you tell me who the current Lord of Winterfell is?"

The man on the left laughed incredulously, and in an extremely contemptuous way, while the one on the right had a confused expression on his face as if he could not believe the words he had just heard. “Don’t you know the name of the man to whom you want to ask refuge? It doesn't seem like a very smart thing to do. But if you want to know, the lord of this castle is Lord Eddard Stark.”

Amalthea made a mental note of it while saying, "So tell Lord Stark that I would like to have a word with him."

“Lord Stark has no time to receive anyone now if it is a room to stay the night that you want, try in Winter Town. Look, from here you can see where it is."

"Please inform Lord Stark that I would like to speak to him." Amalthea returned to repeat, while at her side, Kreacher grumbled, in a low voice just to her ears: _"Filthy men"._ Thea flashed him a warning look.

"We have already told you that he is not giving audiences today. It will be getting dark soon, we will not disturb Lord Stark at this hour." The guard on the right said, gently.

"I'm sure he would like to see me." Amalthea commented, insisting again.

The guard on the left snarled with exaltation and approached the shorter woman. “And who are you for Lord Stark wanting to see? Just a woman accompanied by an old man. Don't waste our time anymore!”

Amalthea narrowed her green eyes like the death curse, that shone dangerously. Something dark showed on her face when she approached, until she was two feet away from the guard who treated her with such disrespect, and spoke in a voice as cold as ice: “You are an excellent guard, I am sure of it, and you do well your work. But it seems to me that you have misunderstood me, gentlemen, so I will make a point of explaining it again until you understand the meaning of each word spoken by me. This was not a request, but a demand. You will let me enter this fortress and you will tell your lord, Eddard Stark, that I am here to see him right away. Tell him it is an important matter and only for his ears.”

The men blinked in shock, one time, two times, and several more. The contemptuous guard turned extremely red in the face, and Thea could almost see the steam coming out of his ears. He seemed to be reaching the point of wanting to drag her away.

"I am sure the Lord of Winterfell will be immensely upset if Lady Peverell is sent away, as nothing more than a commoner." Said the woman calmly, with a chuckle breaking out of her pretty lips.

These words did their job, and the result was satisfying to observe. The man on the right, the one who showed solidarity and responded earlier in a polite way, suddenly became paler, and the other narrowed his eyes suspiciously, but Amalthea was able to recognize a glimmer of uncertainty in his black eyes and rat face.

“Oh, yes… I wonder what Lord Stark will say when he learns that Lady Peverell was treated so contemptuously. He will certainly be upset...” Kreacher searched the words wickedly, with a terrible gleam in his eyes. “And to know that she was treated with such indifference by _his own_ guards. Oh, gentlemen, I would not like to be in your shoes at that moment.” He ended.

Amalthea smirked at his words. Her gaze captured their Adam's apples rising and falling quickly when they swallowed, and they turned white as ghosts.

"Lady Peverell, you say?" Questioned the man on the right, with an uncertain smile between his thick beard.

“Yes, good sir. Lady Amalthea Peverell.”

The two men exchanged a look, and he spoke again: “Then follow me, my Lady. I will call Lord Stark immediately to come and meet you. ”

Both, Amalthea and Kadeem, smiled at each other when they passed the guard in a steady step and elegant posture. Disdainful and with an injured ego, he wasn’t shy when he spit on the floor, and whispered with anger in his voice: "Yes, we will see what Lord Stark will have to say about liars trying to enter his house."

The young black-haired woman coldly ignored him and observed her surroundings, while the other guard warned that he would speak to his Lord and be back in an instant. Dozens of people walked distracted and busy with their daily tasks, and more guards patrolled and watched the grounds. There was a huge stable where she heard horses neighing and dozens of small patios and open spaces where Thea saw targets and training dolls. Overhead, several flags waved in the wind, with a gray dire wolf in the center, growling furiously on a white background. In the courtyard, hardly anyone recognized her, but those few who looked at her did it with curiosity.

"Be careful." Warned Thea to Kreacher who looked around him suspiciously. "We have already seen that not everyone will accept us with open arms..."

"My Lady ..." The guard appeared again, gasping. “Lord Stark agreed to meet you. Please follow me, follow me. He awaits you. ”

"Of course, thank you..."

"Markus, my Lady."

“Thank you, Markus. Shall we?"

The guard, Markus, as Thea learned, guided them into the fortress and through the maze of corridors. The castle was beautiful, the corridors long and lit by the light from the candlesticks on the walls every few meters, and Thea could feel how warm the walls were even when she was away from them. She touched one curiously as she walked, letting her fingers slide over the bumps and rough edges of the granite.

Markus, who had seen her do it, commented: “The castle was built on natural hot springs. The water is channeled into the walls that way keeping the castle warm. Lord Stark's chambers are already ahead, you will find him there waiting for you, with Maester Luwin.”

The end of the corridor separated at a bifurcation, they went to the right and found themselves in front of a massive door. Markus banged his fist on the wood, waited for an ‘ _Come in’_ that came from inside, opened the door, and said: "Here are Lady Peverell and her companion, My Lord."

In the warm room due to the burning fireplace and candles in different corners, two men were standing. One was already of advanced age, small and almost bald, but the few hairs he had were gray and many were walking towards pure white. He wore a gray wool cloak with wide sleeves and a heavy chain around his neck with several links.

The other seated behind the wooden desk, piled with candles and papers, was long-faced and stern but had warm gray eyes. His dark brown hair ended at the shoulders, with a good part tied behind his head, and his beard although brown, now also had some gray in it. He wore dark clothes, and his expression was extremely serious. He looked at the guard and said, “Ah Markus, thank you for bringing me our guests. You can leave us.”

"As you wish, my Lord." And with one last glance at the four occupants in that room, he went out and closed the door behind him.

The room then fell into a tense silence, where everyone waited, evaluating each other. The wind outside whistled and Thea could see that by the time they walked through the castle corridors, it became dark.

Finally, Eddard Stark spoke: "You wanted to see me, my Lady?"

“Yes, my Lord, thank you very much for having me in your beautiful home. My name is Lady Amalthea Peverell and this is Kadeem my... ” What would she say? _Her house-elf turned into a human by Hecate, the Goddess of Magic?_ "My advisor." She ended.

Lord Stark nodded, exchanging glances with the man dressed in gray, in a silent conversation. “Of course, my lady. How can I be useful?”

"My Lord..." began Amalthea carefully and measuring every word. The truth is that she had not practiced any backstory. “My advisor and I came before you seeking refuge from the cold night, in your house. Just one night. It is just until we can make plans after a good rest, and we’ll leave early in the morning.”

"And what are these plans, my Lady, if you don't mind me asking?"

“Traveling to Moat Cailin, my family's home.”

The man cleared his throat as he drummed his fingers on the table in front of him.

"House Stark and House Peverell have been friends since hundreds of years ago, since the time of my ancestor, Torrhen Stark, the King-Who-Knelt. They remained friends throughout Harlan Peverell's life and he himself bought Moat Cailin from my family, for thousands of gold coins, and made residence there. But Moat Cailin is now nothing more than ruins, only three towers still remain intact.” With this, the Lord of Winterfell cast a suspicious look at the youngest woman who appeared on his land mysteriously, with steel-gray eyes. "But that is common knowledge, and also that Harlan Peverell never had children. So how can you claim to be Lady Peverell?”

The information that Harlan had bought Moat Cailin from Torrhen Stark was not new to her. The man himself had told her with an amused smile on his face and, had also said: _The wonders of magic in a world in which it shouldn’t exist. I only needed one coin and when I looked, I already had thousands of gold, enough to buy a castle._

But that Moat Cailin was mere ruins at the moment ... that was new and indeed a piece of very valuable information. _It doesn't matter_ , thought Amalthea. _I have Kreacher and my magic. In a short time, I will rebuild the fortress, I will have a house and I can do what I promised to my ancestor._

Coming out of her thoughts, Thea decided to reply to the man who was watching her coldly: "Forgive me for the rudeness of my words, but does my Lord presume to know more about my ancestors than I do? Do you presume to know more about my family line than the person who carries the Peverell genes in her flesh, as well as the blood in her veins? It is not my intention to be harsh or malicious, Lord Stark, far from it, in fact. However, this is my duty and this is my family we discussed here. Harlan didn’t have a wife or children, that is true, but he did have a brother… And it’s from this brother, Hamish Peverell, that I descend from. Hamish was his heir. I’m the last Peverell alive and I want to claim my land.”

"My Lady, your words are beautiful." The old man began, Maester Luwin, saying with his bald head gleaming in the flames. "But my Lady will certainly understand that, over the years, hundreds of impostors have come to try to claim a land that did not belong to them. Perhaps if my Lady had something to show us that what she says is indeed true... A document, something signed by Lord Peverell himself, maybe?"

"I have nothing like that, good Maester. However, I have in my possession our ancestral sword, _Soteira_ ." She gently, removed, the heavy cloak that kept her warm, a little to the side, and let _Soteira_ appear attached to her waist.

Their eyes widened, and she was ready to draw her sword when she thought she heard something outside the door. She narrowed her green eyes - Avada Kedavra eyes - and said: "It looks like you have spies at your door, my Lord."

Lord Stark, curious, looked in the direction that Amalthea pointed carefully, and was already a little frustrated as if he knew exactly what it was about. He got up, walked around the table, and opened the door abruptly. Three children came flying... falling... landing on top of each other on the stone floor.

"I should have known..." Lord Stark sighed, frowning. "Shouldn't you be finishing your tasks?"

"Embroidering is boring, and Sansa manages to be even more boring than the old Septa." Said the young girl, so like Lord Stark in appearance, with a stubborn expression on her long face.

"I was doing my tasks..." Commented the older boy with a charming smile. "Until you called for Maester Luwin who was teaching me, and I was left with nothing to do."

The Lord of Winterfell seemed to want to pray to the gods when he closed his eyes for a moment, opened them again and looked at the ceiling as if asking for help. Finally, he looked at the youngest boy who was still on the floor, extremely amused: "And you?"

In a sweet little voice, the little boy looked at the tall man with wide eyes, and replied: "I wanted to see you, father."

The girl with the stubborn posture, dark hair, and grey eyes, interjected: "And us," she gestured to herself and to the other brother who exclaimed ‘ _Arya’_ in a snarl. "wanted to see who your mysterious guests were."

Amalthea tried to fight against a smile but she was unable to, her pink lips parted in a smile full of amusement.

"This is what we were discussing before you came playing spies and listening behind doors that you shouldn't have." Maester Luwin commented, also amused.

Lord Stark murmured resignedly, helped his youngest son to rise from where he was still lying on the floor and turned to Amalthea and Kreacher: “My Lady, these are my children. Arya, my second daughter, and Bran my second son. And this is Rickon, my youngest.”

Rickon broke free from his father's clutches and went to cling to Thea's skirts while looking at her with eyes full of admiration.

"You are so beautiful." The boy sighed, dazzled.

Amalthea laughed with all her heart, completely delighted with the little boy with red hair and sweet little eyes. She bent down, standing at the same height as Rickon: "And you are the most gallant little man I have ever met."

Rickon blushed heavily and ran after Eddard, shyly peeking behind the legs of his father who looked at him with amusement.

"Where did you get that scar?" Asked the girl suddenly, eyes narrowed as she watched the lightning scar on Thea's forehead. The scar was no longer as red and irritated as it had been before, it was now a pale shade and Thea almost didn't even notice it was there. _What made the scar ugly was that intrusive thing that was inside me, the monster's Horcrux._

"Arya Stark!" Exclaimed the Maester in a sharp, stern tone. "Apologized to your father's guest."

"But..." The girl started to protest until she was interrupted by high steps outside, that were quickly approaching. _Thump, thump, thump ..._

A figure burst into the room, gasping: “There you are! Forgive me, father, I found these little rascals when I saw that they were trying to get some mischief done. I turned my look away for a second, and when I looked back they were no longer where I left them.”

The Lord of Winterfell cleared his throat, making the young man that was looking at the children amused, look at his father: "Robb, we have guests."

Robb followed his gaze and finally saw them: an old, small man, who was staring at him strangely... and a beautiful young woman, with extremely long hair black as the darkness of the night, with shiny and milky skin. She had full lips curved in a happy smile, nose as small as a button, and her eyes… they were the most beautiful eyes he had ever seen, and he would never be able to describe that color. Her curvaceous body was hidden in a long, grey-blue dress, and she had a wolf skin on her shoulders.

He felt the tips of his ears catch fire when he saw that the beautiful woman was also watching him curiously.

The young man named Robb, from what Amalthea had noticed, was tall and handsome, with a head full of copper curls and a thin beard with signs of being the same color as his hair. He had a strong jaw, full lips, and bright blue eyes. He was thin but muscular and in almost nothing resembled his father. Amalthea assumed he looked like his mother, even though she didn't know the woman, but Thea could see things on his face that belonged to Eddard like his eyebrows and nose. When he spoke, it was with a deep accent: "My lady..."

Lord Stark interrupted: “My Lady, this is Robb Stark, my eldest son, and heir. Robb, these are our guests...” He looked at the pommel of the sword that Thea carried. "Lady Peverell and her adviser, Kadeem."

The son looked at him with wide eyes and full of questions.

“Robb, please take your brothers to your mother and have two rooms arranged for our guests, as they will spend the night here. When it's done, come back and take them to their new quarters, if you don't mind. ”

"Yes, father. Come on, mother must be looking for you... ” He gestured with his hand towards the door and shut up Arya when she tried to protest. Before leaving, he looked at Amalthea once more, went around the door, and disappeared.

The others were silent again before Maester Luwin cleared his throat: "My lady, show us the sword, please."

Amalthea grabbed the half-moon pommel with her right hand, and in a precise movement drew her sword.

They watched it shine red in the light of the flames, its blade sharp and beautiful.

"Can I?" Eddard Stark questioned.

"Of course." Thea handed _Soteira_ over to the stern man and watched calmly as Lord and Maester inspected the sword. She was flanked by Kreacher, who until then had not uttered a single word.

"Is it the real one?" She heard Eddard ask the man in grey with the chains around his neck.

“It is exactly like the drawings and documents, my Lord. The half-moon, the silver, and the blade… Valyrian steel, and look, it has the name… ”

Lord Stark swung the sword, testing it. He frowned and tried again: "Feels wrong... feels strange."

Amalthea's amused chuckle had escaped, resounding in the air, and the two men lifted their heads to see her with her right hand in front of her lips trying to contain the smile. “It’s normal for _Soteira_ to feel strange in your hands, my Lord. It’s my family sword and as such, it can only be wielded by a Peverell.”

Maester Luwin nodded to Eddard, and Eddard returned the sword to the young woman who swung it in an elegant and _right_ gesture. "You are who you say."

"Yes, my Lord, in fact I am."

"I apologize immensely for our distrust, but as we said before, not only a few have tried to claim your name and land in the past."

Luwin sighed: “Oh, my Lady. Where has your family been all this time? Where were you?”

“I will tell you everything calmly. But now I just have to say this: I intend to see my ancestral home, Moat Cailin, rebuilt. I will have new flags and a new motto. The Peverell House is back, my Lord, and it was about time.”


	8. Capítulo VI

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello my amazing readers, here is chapter six and I hope that you will like it. As always, thank you so much for everything. Please don't forget to vote and comment if you can!

Time passed slowly while they waited for the return of the heir of Winterfell, who would return later to take the guests to their proper rooms for the night.

Lord Stark and Maester Luwin were still a little incredulous at finally having a real member of House Peverell in front of them - the House they thought had been dead for dozens of years - and no longer a fake in an attempt to steal inheritances from other unfortunates souls.

Eddard sat down again behind the desk, but when he heard a maid walking down the hall, he was quick to ask for two chairs to be brought. Thea had said it wasn’t necessary, not wanting to demand too much of the man's hospitality, but he had been quick to retaliate that he would not let a Lady stand while he himself sat.

In the time it took the maid to leave and carry out the orders of the Lord of Winterfell and return with two chairs with the help of another woman, Amalthea watched Eddard and Luwin closely. Both exchanged glances and slight signs, in a silent conversation that only they understood, trying to be as discreet as possible. Of course, they were not discreet enough, because the hawk eyes of the young woman with black hair captured all their gestures, despite not understanding any of them. However, she knew what it was about and the issue at hand was _her_.

Amalthea thanked the two maids who left in a hurry but with an extremely interested expression, and Thea was sure that, that night, she would also be a topic of conversation in the rest of the castle.

She approached the chairs in front of Lord Stark's table, and sat on the left while Kreacher joined her on the right. She was correcting the skirt of the dress that was wrapped around her legs and carefully smoothing the creases she had on the fabric when the Maester, on Eddard's right side, said: "My Lady, I am sorry to question you again because I know how tired you must be, but I can't control my curiosity and I hope you will forgive this old man for that, but please tell us your story."

Her story... Amalthea knew she would have to say something, but she had nothing prepared. She wanted to avoid that subject but she had the notion that it wouldn’t be possible, they wanted a justification for why they only appeared now, and they also wanted to know where they had been all this time...

But the young woman couldn't tell them the truth. How could she tell them that she was in fact from another world, that she had magic in her veins and that a Goddess they had never heard of before had sent her here after a blood sacrifice? They would certainly have her arrested and later tried to execute her as well. She thought for a minute about the chosen method of execution... would it be hanging? Or maybe they would try to burn her at the stake like so many others tried to do to her people, unaware that most of those who burned in the flames didn’t have a single bit of magic in their bodies…

"We thought that House Peverell was dead, my Lady. You must understand our curiosity." The Stark man interrupted her thoughts. "Please explain to us."

Well, Thea knew she was going to have to do something she didn't like that much. She would have to lie...

"Essos, my Lord." She said carefully, forming her story mentally.

"Essos?" The man with the stiff posture repeated.

"Exactly, Lord Stark. I lived there my whole life as well as most of my family. One of the many exceptions that tried to make a living in a new place, was the one you know, my ancestor, Harlan Peverell. My family started out very poor, you see, as well as several others who have this unhappiness. They were simple farmers and lived with the little they had. Harlan and his brother Hamish were young but they followed in the footsteps of their father, grandfather, and the great-grandfather before him... they were all farmers, and as farmers, they would one day die. But Harlan was different, he was too curious and always had his head in the clouds when he should have a rake in his hand. He was always an adventurous soul, a child who could not be quiet for a long time, and he always wanted more than his family had or could give him.

> He was bitter about his life, but he was also too afraid to disappoint his family by trying to be something different. But one day he heard about a ship that was going to set sail that night for another land and another country, a place called Westeros. Suddenly he made a plan... that night he would escape from home, infiltrate that merchant ship and only show himself to the crew when it was too late to go back. And with the help of Hamish, his twin brother who knew how unhappy Harlan was, that's exactly what he did. He fled that night, went and stowed away on the ship, and ended up in this new land, disembarking at White Harbor. But Harlan had not considered his plan well. He had no money and no place to stay, he had no food, and he only brought with him the clothes he wore on his body, and something he hadn't counted on was the cold of the North.

> Then he wandered through the snow, walking and walking for days, with nothing in his stomach and drinking the icy snow that melted in his mouth. He walked until he lost himself in an immensity of white and ended up fainting. And from there you know the story of how Torrhen Stark gave him shelter, how Harlan grew rich by selling the healing 'potions' he created and came to die several years later in his castle, already very old."

Amalthea was silent for a moment, feeling her throat dry after several minutes of talking. Maester Luwin offered her a glass of water to which she thanked him, and for a moment she appreciated the coolness of the drink as the two men reflected on her words.

Since the woman had now finished drinking, Lord Stark commented, "No one had any idea that Harlan had a family. Why didn't they come from Essos after learning about the good life he had created?"

Thea took a deep breath and thought carefully. She couldn’t show any hint of falsehood and deception in her words, she couldn’t have any of those men suspecting that the story was nothing more than her invention.

"And leave everything they knew behind? Oh no, Harlan's father was a humble man but too proud for his own good, and he did not want to live off the son who offended him by abandoning his family business. But unfortunately, he became ill and as much as Hamish wanted to join his twin brother, he had to work and help the family he had left, his father died, his mother was left alone and Hamish never left. He formed a life of his own with a wife and children, buried his mother when she also died, and lived his father's legacy even though he was rich after Harlan shared most of his assets with him."

Maester Luwin politely interrupted her. His gray robes rustled when he approached slightly: "But, my Lady, why only now? Hamish and his sons were heirs to Lord Harlan Peverell, they could have crossed the Narrow Sea and claimed the lordship of Moat Cailin..."

"They could, couldn't they? But Hamish suffered too much from the death of his brother, and made his own children promise never to try to set foot on this land: despite all the riches that Westeros brought to himself and his own, the man considered this one country cursed for separating him from his brother for so many years.” Amalthea explained with all the calm in the world, transmitting confidence in her made-up words. Lying was becoming too easy for her. "His children fulfilled his wish and never imagined living in another land, each followed their way when they grew up and lived a happy and extremely rich life. Their money grew as each one followed their chosen trades, they had children, and that children had children until we reached me. Me and my beloved father, James, the last descendants of the Peverell family.”

The anguished glow that shone in her beautiful green eyes was deep and true. She thought that adding a little bit of truth to her story would make it more real. Kreacher offered her a sad smile as he touched the Slytherin medallion that he wore around his neck, and the other two men who watched her attentively felt the atmosphere grow heavy and remained silent as if they knew that her next words would bring something immensely terrible.

“We were happy, my Lords. Me, my beautiful mother Lily and my brave father James Peverell, and without forgetting Kadeem who served my family well for decades. Our house was lovely and comfortable, with the most beautiful flowers in the huge garden that my father created as a wedding gift for my mother. We lived in peace, well supplied with money and with a good roof over our heads… But as always in life, there are those who hate and envy the happiness of others, and our family was no different. Our money and inheritance was the envy of the poorest and most terrible of men, and unfortunately, one night an attack was made on our home.

> My mother and I were reading in front of the fire when our front door was opened with a loud crash that rumbled through the house, and I heard my father's distant cry. “Lily, take Amalthea and go! It's him! Run! I will hold them off! Hide!” I didn't understand what was happening at that moment until I heard my father's body fall to the floor and heard the sound of meat being pierced by a blade. My mother screamed… a cry that froze my blood and froze my legs, grabbed me by the arm, and locked us in my room. She explained to me how my father had received threats from a business rival for some time, and that he must have been the one to hire the men who broke into our house to kill us. She opened my bedroom window and forced me to climb the nearest tree, kissed my face a thousand times with tears in her eyes.

> She said to me: “Oh Amalthea, you are so loved, so loved. Mother loves you, Father loves you. Be brave, be strong.” Fists and kicks were heard against the wood of my door and she saw me go down the tree until I was safely on the ground. She told me to run away and not look back. I heard her screaming and begging to those men… she didn’t beg for her life, but for mine. And I ran, and ran, crying loudly in the silence of the night. I couldn't control myself and did what my mother told me not to do... I looked back... And what I saw was my childhood home immersed in fire. I don't remember much of what happened the rest of the night… I remember almost choking on my tears, I remember the pain my bare feet felt when stepping on rocks and glass… And I remember meeting Kadeem in his home, and telling him what had happened and cry in his arms until I fell asleep. ”

With an extremely heavy frown, Amalthea looked at Kreacher, who carefully touched her arm in a gesture that for the other two men showed comfort but which seemed to her to say: _You’re doing well, Mistress, they are believing you._

 _It is not all an invention_ , she thought. _The pain in my voice could never be invented by anyone._ There was so much pain, loss and longing in her timbre... She added some truths to the story, her parents' last words described in a different way. But it was true that they were threatened and murdered by a rival, it was true that James protected and empathized the monster as much as he could, and it was also true that Lily sacrificed and begged for her daughter's life in the end.

She watched the horror on Maester Luwin’s wrinkled face and the grief on Eddard's.

“Do you want to know what I did after that? I... I didn't eat, I didn't sleep, I didn't rest until I managed to bring that monster to trial before all the people and all the gods. I gathered all the evidence I was able to get my hands on that told the truth behind that attack on my home and my family, and when the coward confessed his crime amid tears, piss and feces, I saw him hanged in a public square. I watched his ugly face swell until it was three times its normal size and purple, I saw how the angry crowd scoffed and threw stones and rotten fruit at the corpse that swayed in the wind, but even that didn't succeed in reducing my pain and bringing peace to my soul even though I knew that justice had been done.

> My parents are dead because a cowardly and greedy man thought he had the right to steal their lives. They are dead because in this world there are always those who envy what others have, be it wealth, power, happiness, or even love. There is nothing else for me in Essos, the joyful life I had can never be returned to me, and neither can my beloved parents. I grew up listening to stories about my ancestors and about the house and land my family owned here, and then decided that this is where I will live from now on."

Amalthea was silent then, having finally finished her story. In other times, perhaps she would have felt guilty for her false words, Thea knew so… when she was younger and extremely more naive when she was unaware of the cruelty of the world and the betrayals that could stand in the way of a mere orphan. But now, she knew it was an inevitable evil and a much more reasonable story to tell. She would not allow herself to feel the weight of the lies she just spoke on her conscience.

The wind outside whistled as it hit the stones of the castle and the wooden logs crackled in the fire. Eddard Stark had an intense and different shine in his steel look... that look that people sometimes have when they remember a traumatic moment in their lives, a moment that should never have been lived by anyone. He looked at her full of memories, sadness, empathy, and understanding. 

"My Lady, I am so very sorry for your loss and the fact that you experienced something so terrible at such a young age."

"Thank you, Lord Stark." She just said.

"House Stark and House Peverell have been friends for a long time and have always helped each other. I have no intention of being the first Stark to break that partnership. I will help you and I swear to you that there will always be a place for you in Winterfell." Said the Lord of that place.

Joy bubbled up in Amalthea's body with those words, her story worked and softened Lord Stark as to her person. Eddard appeared to be very intelligent and astute, severe and rigid in his own way, and he looked like a man who didn’t break his word. But that could be dangerous. What if she hadn't been there that day, the woman who actually had the blood of the forgotten family? What if it had been someone else, someone who had it, who also had a good backstory and other tricks? Lord Stark was smart and honorable but he seemed to trust too much… if there was one thing Amalthea had learned, it was not to trust a person fully and blindly. She would never make that mistake again.

"Oh, thank you very much. I thank you with all my heart." Thea gave him a beautiful and elegant smile. “Know however that I have money, Lord Stark, I do not wish you to think otherwise and I am not here at all trying to live at your expense. In fact, I have a large amount with me here, in Westeros, with reliable people and in a safe place, but most of it is in the Iron Bank of Braavos, very well kept and ready to use when I need it, and I know that eventually, I will need it. I intend to finance the reconstruction of my ancestral home and hire the necessary people to make that possible, as well as its operation. As I said earlier, I will have new standards and new words, I am proud of the previous ones but this will be the revival of House Peverell, and a clean start will be for the best.”

Another lie. She had never been to Braavos before, and she had never entrusted her wealth to them. She did have money with her, she brought foreign money in her small bag... And if she needed money from that place, her magic would solve the problem.

Maester Luwin took a feather, parchment, and ink, with the permission of his Lord, and asked curiously, with his old eyes shining in search of new knowledge. "Tell me, my Lady, what do you want on your new banners so that I can update my documents about your family?"

Amalthea smiled, taking the paper and feather that the Maester handed her.

"I want a completely black background and this in a rich shade of gold." She dipped the tip of the crow's feather in the black ink and carefully, due to all the years spent at Hogwarts, drew on the paper in dark and precise lines: a full moon, flanked by a waning and a waxing crescent. In the center of the full moon, she drew a triangle, a circle and a line there. Hecate and Thanatos together in the symbol that would one day adorn her flags. She passed the piece of parchment to the man who examined it and he then passed it on to Lord Stark, who looked at the drawing with curiosity.

"Very interesting, my Lady, it will make a beautiful symbol for your honorable House. But what does it mean, if you can excuse my curiosity?" Questioned the Maester.

Amalthea broke into an amused smile: "It is just... something very important in my family's history."

"What about your new words?" Eddard asked then, seeing that the young woman wouldn’t elaborate further. “The words of the Peverell House are known around the world, are you sure you want to change that?”

Amalthea felt a twinge of irritation when she heard the question and the tone with which it was spoken, but she didn’t show it. She thought about how much House Peverell had honored Hecate in its symbol and motto, but the black-haired woman knew that there was now another one that she also wanted to honor.

“ _‘Blessed are those who give their sacrifice’_ are strong words that have served my family well in other times. But times have changed, and my house is no longer forgotten or finished.”

"So and which ones do you want now?"

Amalthea whispered. " _Life, Death and Sacrifice._ "

It wasn’t her intention to make the air around them thick and dark, but that was what had happened when she said those words. Thea's attentive eyes captured the slight chill that went through old Luwin's body. He himself felt the need to comment in a strange tone: "Very... strong words, my Lady."

They talked for a little longer while Winterfell's heir was slow to return to that room. Lord Stark said that in the meantime the dinner would be ready and asked if his guests would like to join him and his family, but Amalthea with all courtesy and respect replied that it had been a long journey and that if he would agree, she would like to rest for the rest of the night. The man understood perfectly, said that later someone would bring them a plate of food and didn’t mention it anymore.

Finally, after a few minutes of waiting in a comfortable conversation, there was a knock on the door and Robb Stark appeared, his copper hair even redder in the light of the candles and the fireplace

His restless gaze flew from person to person, finally stopping at his father. “I did as ordered, father. The maids prepared everything for our guests.”

“Ah, Robb... Very well, thank you.” Eddard looked at the visitors still seated in the chairs across from him. "I know how tired you are, my Lady, and since you both refused to join us for dinner, my son will accompany you to your new rooms."

Amalthea agreed, getting up as well as Kreacher who thanked the other man for his hospitality, smoothed the long skirt of the dress and said: “Of course, the journey has been long and the weight of it already feels on the bones. Thank you very much for your time, gentlemen, and we are deeply grateful for your help. ”

Robb approached: "If you want to follow me..."

Amalthea gave him a smile. "If you want to show us the way."

Robb Stark gave her the right arm and she accepted, while he accompanied her to their new rooms with Kadeem not far behind. They left the small room and ventured into the castle.

Walking for a while, all silent without knowing what to say, Amalthea noticed that she could feel the warmth of Robb's skin even through his clothes. Without thinking too much, wanting to keep herself busy while being guided to an unknown place, she extended her magic, pulling it out of her and invisible tentacles of power crackled silently in the air. She commanded the tongues of magic, directing them towards the copper-haired man, urging them to investigate him. Robb was suddenly even more tense than he already was, and Thea knew he felt the magic entering his skin, even though he didn't even know what was going on. He winced for a moment but ended up relaxing, feeling a strange sense of peace, just as the young woman wanted him to feel.

Amalthea's magic ran through his body, and she studied what it told her about Robb... whether the man was reliable or not. When she pulled the power back to herself, it did vibrated contentedly and Thea felt a cool, sweet taste on the tip of her tongue. Robb was indeed trustworthy, a kind and honorable young Summer man, who never felt pain or torment within those stone walls that protected him from all the evil in the world. But her magic recognized something wild in his flesh, something volatile if woked up at some point in his life.

 _He's a wolf and his blood is warm_ , thought Amalthea as she felt his body heat behind the fabric of his sleeve. _A wolf with a reddish fur, but that keeps its teeth and claws hidden, not feeling the need to use them. He may not even know the weapons that he has. Maybe one day he will. He is dangerous without even knowing it._

They all walked for a moment, Amalthea studying the Winterfell corridors and trying to memorize the way. _He is a wolf, yes, but I am Death in human flesh. And neither wolves or lions, krakens nor dragons, or any other beast is strong enough against death._

Robb cleared his throat and gave her an uneasy look. The woman could see all the curiosity and questions he had hidden inside his blue eyes. “I hope the rooms will be to your liking, my Lady. The rooms are in the same corridor, but on opposite sides.” He informed at last.

Feeling pity for the young man who seemed extremely uncomfortable in the silence that had befallen the three, Amalthea replied: “I am sure they will be lovely, do not worry my Lord. It is very kind of your father to offer us a place to spend the night.”

"My father would not deny a Lady and her..." Robb looked back at Kadeem, who was watching him with wary eyes, forgetting what Lord Stark had said that man was.

"Counselor... and guardian." _I suppose_ , Thea added.

"Of course, as I said... My father would never deny a Lady and her guardian a shelter to spend the cold night."

"There are many Lords who would refuse, but your father appears to be a different type of man... kind and honorable."

Robb's chest seemed to swell slightly at the words, extremely proud of the man he called his father. When he spoke again, after turning once to the right and again to the left, he nevertheless changed the subject: "Please forgive me... But I presume I did not hear wrong when my father introduced you as Lady Peverell?"

Amalthea smiled, amused. She knew that Robb's curiosity for her was reaching the point of overflowing. “You did not hear wrong. I am in fact Lady Amalthea Peverell. I am sure that Lord Stark and Maester Luwin will inform you all about me this evening. And she had no doubt about it.

The man seemed to want to say something more but he didn’t since they had finally arrived at their destination. He stopped by a dark wooden door, opened it, and commented: "These are your rooms, Lord Kadeem."

“I am not a Lord.” Kadeem scanned the room quickly, nodded, and said, “I appreciate it. But where did you say Lady Amalthea's room would be?”

Robb pointed to the end of the corridor on the left, four doors away. "There, I hope there is no problem."

Seeing Kreacher’s look, who was afraid to be away from her Lady in a huge and unknown place, Thea was quick to reply: “No, there is no problem. You can go in and rest, Kadeem. Soon I will do the same.”

The former house-elf had an air of doubt on his old face: "Are you sure, my Lady?"

"I am, I will be perfectly safe." The last thing Amalthea wanted was to offend Eddard Stark's son in any way when the trip to Winterfell and her conversation with him had gone so well.

After saying goodbye to Kadeem, who grudgingly stood on the edge of his bedroom door watching, Robb and Thea went to what would be hers.

Finally, the young man opened the door that would give to her chambers, and Amalthea came in and looked around curiously. It was small - not that small, Thea would never complain about a room that allowed her to wander and stretch her legs after years of sleeping in a tiny miserable closet - but extremely pleasant and welcoming. There was one large window in the center of the opposite wall where a gentle breeze came in, as well as the silver moonlight that bathed the big bed full of furs, blankets and pillows, and a small table in the left corner with a common-looking chair. To the right, a fireplace burned, illuminating the room and filling it with light and heat; a comfortable armchair, warm skins on the floor and a dark wooden tub rested close to the fire.

"Do you like it, my Lady?" Robb asked hesitantly, watching her reaction from the outside.

Amalthea ran her hand across the gray fur on the bed, feeling the softness of the material on her fingers and skin, looked around the room again and showed him a beautiful smile. “It is beautiful and looks extremely comfortable. Yes I like it, thank you, Heir Stark.”

Robb looked pleased and said, “A maid will show up later to see if you need anything. I have to go now, dinner should be served and my family is waiting for me.”

"Of course, don't let me arrest you here."

The young man bowed in a graceful movement and stepped back slowly, looking like he wanted to go but at the same time he wanted to stay. "See you tomorrow, Lady Peverell."

"My name is Amalthea Dorea Peverell, close friends usually call me Thea." She commented, with a malicious gleam in her green eyes.

"And are we friends, Lady Peverell?" Asked Robb, bowing his head slightly to meet her gaze - he was a head taller than she was - and giving her a gallant smile with straight white teeth when he thought of her words.

Laughing, Amalthea said, "That is the question, isn’t it? Good evening, Lord Robb." She watched the man step back with his ears looking as if they were on fire, closed the door, and dropped herself on the bed with an amused smile painted on her pink lips.


	9. Chapter VII

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey guys, how are you? I hope you are safe in this chaotic year.  
> So I know it's been a while since I updated this story but like I said I have no intentions of stopping writing it, I'm truly loving writing Solivagant but sometimes it can be hard came up with ideas for it and writing it down. I have this story written till chapter 11, so you at least can be sure that those chapters will be published in the near future. I just need to see what I want to happen for all the rest of the story lmao.  
> Anyway, hope you guys like this chapter and don't forget to let me know your opinions - also, let me know if you see any mistake please!

In the small comfortable room, Amalthea took a hot bath where she rubbed herself so hard until her skin was pink and later filled her belly with the food that one of the castle servants brought her. While resting in the unknown bed and trying to fall asleep, she tried to invoke the spirits so familiar for her. It took a while, much longer than normal, but finally, they appeared in different places in the room and Amalthea was immensely relieved. She didn't know if it would work in a different world. She remained the Mistress of Death, but she was not entirely sure that certain skills acquired by the title could be used in Westeros. Their presence had shown her that it was possible, and Thea was glad about it.

After telling them, word by word, what was discussed that night, they praised her for her quick reasoning in inventing a backstory and were happy that she was, for the time being, in a safe place sheltered from the cold and the terrors of an unknown world. After they disappeared, Thea closed her eyes and dreamed of rituals, swords, wolves, and a dark winged being who held out a bony hand for her.

The next morning, Amalthea and Kadeem were the new topic of concern among the servants, guards, and the low-born, as the young woman knew it would happen. One of the girls who served dinner to the Stark family the night before curiously heard their words about a Lady Peverell commented with a friend from the kitchens who commented with another, and so the message went from mouth to mouth, even faster than a forest fire.

"I heard she is beautiful." Some commented.

"I heard she arrived on a beautiful horse, with a cavalry of two hundred men to protect her." Others said.

"Oh is that so... and where are they now?"

"Lord Stark should not trust this stranger, she must be an imposter with the intention of getting her hands on the riches of the good Lord Harlan, Gods have him."

"Riches? Don't be stupid, woman. What riches does she have to claim? Moat Cailin is nothing but ruins, she will be rich in stones."

Whatever the people had to say, the truth is that Amalthea was a topic in every corner of Winterfell and that showed up with the wolf pack of that old castle itself.

"Are you sure this girl is who she claims to be, Ned?" Catelyn Stark, the matriarch, asked the night before while helping the youngest son eating.

Since each member of the family had taken their place around the long dark wooden table and Ned Stark told everything that had happened, the topic of conversation was no different. The man told them how he had been informed by a guard that two people wished to speak with him and one of them referred to herself as Lady Peverell, told them how he had first discredited her words after so many attempts at deception along of the years, but that now, after having seen and felt the ancestral sword of the Peverell family and heard her story, found himself believing.

The confusion had been immense after his speech. Each had a question of their own to ask about their new guests, and Arya and Bran couldn't help but proudly comment on how they were the first ones to meet her, in a kind of childish intention to try to make their brothers jealous.

“She had a sword! Does she know how to use it? If she really is Lady Peverell and uses a sword, why can't I learn it too?” Arya questioned, wild as always, only to receive a stern look from her mother and a sigh of disdain from her sister, Sansa.

"You will meet her tomorrow and it is certain that any questions you have will be answered by her." Ned said to his children. "You will, however, be kind and respectful to Lady Peverell and her guardian."

The conversation ended there, but curiosity had set place in everyone’s heart, and whoever had not met Amalthea yet, was hoping that the next morning would come quickly to see this happen. 

And it would happen quickly.

Amalthea was still resting under the weight of various furs and blankets, in a world of dreams when she heard footsteps walking through the previously silent room. Suddenly her hand traveled to the wand hidden under the feather pillow, grabbed it firmly with a racing heart, and opened her green eyes as a maid leaned over to rest something on the bed.

The brown-haired maid looked at her with a start, and was quick to say in a soft apologetic tone: “I beg your pardon for awakening you, my Lady, but Lord Stark sent me to help you prepare to join him and his family for breakfast.”

Thea inspected the woman carefully, from her brown eyes and hair to her nervous countenance. Certainly, waking up with someone unknown in her room wasn’t the way Amalthea would have wished that morning, but she saw no reason to blame the girl who was following orders of the Lord of Winterfell.

Definitely calmer, seeing that the maid who shouldn’t have been much older than she was no threat to her, Thea replied: “You are forgiven. It is not customary to sleep so late, but I think I was very tired.” She sighed looking out of the window, watching the world outside turn into a pale flash of gray and white as the sun rose higher and higher, and overhead clouds painted the sky. "What is your name?"

"Alyssa, my Lady."

“Thank you very much, Alyssa, my name is Amalthea. Well, since you are here it is better if I prepare myself, I do not want to keep Lord Stark waiting.”

"Lady Catelyn had this dress delivered to her, she figured you would not want to wear the same dress as the day before."

Sitting on the bed, Thea now saw that what the maid had laid out on the bed was a dress made in grey wool, heavy and comfortable, and done in a way that would keep her warm. Without Alyssa seeing, the young Potter frowned when she saw it. It wasn’t that it wasn’t beautiful, because in fact the dress was extremely pretty... but the night before Amalthea had told Lord Stark that she would in no way live at his expense and here was his wife offering her new clothes to wear. She could have used the same one or transfigured a new one with a wave of her wand, but it would be disrespectful not to use the one she had been so kindly offered.

"Oh, it is a beautiful dress." She said, at last, seeing that Alyssa was looking at her with a curiosity she couldn't hide. "It is very kind of Lady Catelyn."

The maid showed a small smile. "We are very lucky to have such a gentle and noble Lady."

Without further ado, Amalthea started preparing for the day. Alyssa wishing to please wanted to help her get dressed, but that was something the young black-haired woman had politely refused. She knew it must be a normal function for Alyssa, but the last thing Thea needed was for her to look at the marks and scars she had on her body after the battle, and having that spread. She dressed behind the wooded changing screen, placed the two wand holsters in her arms under her sleeve, and when she was ready, she allowed Alyssa to help her fix her hair.

After that when she was satisfied, Thea grabbed her wands, hidden from the maid's curious brown eyes, and watched them disappear.

“I will now take you to Lord Stark.” Exclaimed Alyssa.

Amalthea suddenly remembered Kreacher, a few rooms away. "What about my advisor?"

"Oh..." A shade of pink-tinted the maid's previously pale cheeks when she looked at Amalthea, sheepishly. “Forgive me, my Lady. Your advisor was given new clothes before I woke you up, and he is waiting for you outside.”

In pity for the girl, Amalthea smiled: “It is alright, Alyssa, you did nothing wrong. Should we go, then?”

After the two women left the comfort of the room, Thea walking ahead with the maid following her heels, they went to find Kadeem waiting outside, leaning against the stone wall and grumbling bitterly to himself. Amalthea observed that a similar outfit to the one from the previous day had also been delivered to him, this one in black and brownish-green.

When he saw them, the old man quickly approached Thea, giving Alyssa a withering look, who remained silent as a mouse.

"My Lady..." began Kadeem, with frustration on his wrinkled face. Perhaps his luck was the fact that his few hairs were already white, because, with all the nerves that the old man felt that night away from his mistress, they would surely have turned his hair in that exact color. "Did you have a good night?" Thea knew it was his way of questioning,  _ Were you safe? Nobody tried anything? _

"Yes Kadeem, I slept wonderfully."  _ Nothing happened, stay calm, _ it was the meaning behind her words.

Kreacher searched the younger woman's eyes for truth and sighed with satisfaction at what he found. Duly more relaxed after her hidden guarantees he looked at Alyssa, who was examining the visitors with barely concealed curiosity. This one feeling the weight of his gaze, quickly said: "Please follow me, I will show you the way."

In a whirlwind of skirts, the maid launched herself forward, past them, and walked the long way while the other two followed calmly behind.

Discreetly and almost silently, Thea stood side by side with Kreacher until their arms touched and exclaimed, being careful not to be heard by anyone else: "Make sure no one comes in and touches my things." She had left her sword and her purse on the table in her room, along with the dress and furs she had worn yesterday.

The man nodded and after making sure that they were not observed, replied in an equally low tone: "It will be done, Mistress."

Then, in a light and delicate gesture, Kadeem snapped his fingers, something crackled softly around him and Amalthea knew that the elf magic - despite the change of body, the magic remained the same - would guarantee that her goods would be safe from possible curious or even possible thefts. Feeling more confident, the two followed the maid through the castle's labyrinth of corridors.

The journey to the destination had been calm and comfortable, with little comments from Alyssa such as: "It is a beautiful morning, tonight the sky will be wonderfully dotted with stars", "You will be treated very well in Winterfell, Lord Stark will ensure that" and yet, "My Lady, forgive me for the indiscretion, but you have the most beautiful green eyes I have ever seen." 

When passing by other servants who, like the maid who accompanied them, seemed to radiate interest in the travelers, the two magical beings were quick to smile at them... Well, Thea showed a gentle smile while Kadeem showed only a vision of teeth that for some reason seemed too threatening.

Finally, after a few minutes had passed and after leaving the courtyard that shone with people and the noise of everyday life, they went to a large stone structure adorned with banners with the ferocious gray wolf howling softly at the swing wind. The oak and iron doors were huge, and when they were in front of them, Alyssa turned the body over, bowed and said: "This is the Great Hall, it is used to welcome guests and Lord Stark and his family enjoy their meals here. You will find them waiting. I will have to leave you now because I am needed elsewhere, I wish you a good day and a wonderful stay."

And as quickly as she appeared, the brown-haired maid disappeared. Without further ado, Amalthea and Kadeem opened the creaky doors, producing a huge sound that silenced the occupants inside.

As they entered, Thea watched her surroundings as Kreacher closed the doors again, cutting the cold breeze behind.

The interior of the Great Hall was also entirely of stone, illuminated by the light coming from the huge windows filling the room with a pale and clear hue, and very long with eight big rows of dark wooden tables, four on each side leaving a vast corridor in the middle where the two travelers of another world walked by. At the end of the room, on a raised platform and around a long table, nine pairs of eyes were fixed on them.

Swallowing all the discomfort and letting only the calm and serenity show, Thea approached the platform in a straight pose of confidence. Lord Stark cleared his throat, rose from the table in a gesture of greeting and politeness, and the rest were quick to follow him.

“Lady Peverell, we were waiting for your presence. This is my wife lady, Catelyn.” Commented the man.

"Lord Stark, Lady Stark, we deeply regret our delay." Amalthea said bowing as Kadeem beside her bowed as well.

The woman who edged Eddard was beautiful, with long auburn hair and blue eyes, looking gentle but at the same time a little stern when she examined the two visitors. She also bowed and when she grabbed the skirts of the blue dress she was wearing, Thea noticed that she had long and slender fingers. "It is an honor to have you here."

With a rigid posture, which seemed to be something usual in his personality and body, the patriarch continued to speak: “Let me introduce you to my children, some of you already know like Robb, Bran, Arya, and Rickon...”

The nominees were looking at her curiously, little Rickon with an air of childlike admiration on his face and Arya almost jumping in her place as she scanned each extension of Thea's body with her eyes, looking for something: "Where's your sword?"

"Arya Stark!" Scolded her mother severely, practically hissing with outrage that she interrupted her father in front of the guests.

Thea gave her a kind, understanding, and amused smile. That girl had a fierce air around her...

"I did not think it was necessary to bring it this morning." Amalthea replied. It was certainly not necessary when she had two magical wands with her. "It is safely stored in the room given to me."

"Can I see it?" Arya returned to question and was once again rebuked by Lady Stark, whose cheeks were now dyed red.

Thea heard a chuckle from the other corner of the table where Robb was watching her closely, with two young men who appeared to be his age. "Maybe later." Suggested the Potter heiress.

Lord Stark watched his youngest daughter with an air of resignation, and at the moment when she seemed to want to complain, the lord's steel gaze made her silence immediately.

Young Bran remained calm beside his sister, but he also seemed immensely interested in the subject of the House Peverell sword.

Eddard then went on to introduce his extended family. "This is Sansa, my oldest daughter..."

The girl seemed to have inherited everything from her mother and nothing from her father, from her thick, shiny red hair, her big blue eyes, and round and pale face. She was thin and slender, and she was on her way to be even more beautiful one day than she was at that moment. When she spoke, it was with all the softness of the world, in a small melodic voice like a bird: “It is a pleasure to meet you, Lady Peverell. And you too, sir.”

"It is a pleasure to meet you too." Thea commented kindly.

Then Lord Stark started to introduce the other two boys since Amalthea already knew the rest: “On Robb's left side is Theon Greyjoy, my ward, and on the right is my son, Jon Snow.”

Thea's watchful eye captured Catelyn's subtle movement when the boy was introduced. The older woman's face seemed to have changed completely even though she wanted to show serenity... but Thea could read disdain, disgust, and hatred in Catelyn's features, from the enlarged nostrils to the compressed mouth as if there was something bitter on her tongue.

_ Interesting _ , thought the young Potter. Keeping this for later examination, Amalthea then looked at the remaining boys.

Theon Greyjoy was thin, with brown hair and blue eyes, with a small hint of beard on his face. He had a proud and arrogant countenance when he examined her from head to toe and smirked, which only drew more attention to the large, not very pleasant mole on his left side, slightly away from his mouth and nose. Without knowing why Draco Malfoy unexpectedly came to her mind... Perhaps it was due to the tangent of naughty arrogance that emanated from Theon. When he fixed his gaze on Thea's bust, she had to bite her tongue with all her strength to keep from scolding him with a disgusted sigh.

Amalthea then proceeded to examine the other. With hair as black as a raven's wing, with a long face, bright gray eyes, and a lean frame, Jon Snow was extremely handsome and of all Eddard Stark's children, he was most like him, apart from little Arya. He also seemed to have inherited his father's severity and stiffness, but he smiled sheepishly when their eyes met - a smile that Thea could hardly even recognize since he had only slightly raised the right corner of his full lips.

Suddenly, Lady Catelyn's previous behavior made sense.  _ Snow _ while everyone else was Stark. Then she remembered the conversation she had with Harlan Peverell about the names given to bastards in each region of Westeros... Jon was Eddard's son but not Catelyn's. With regret in her heart as she watched the boy practically be struck by Lady Stark's gaze, Thea gave him a friendly smile in return. She would not be influenced by Jon Snow's bastardity, nor by the apparent hatred, his stepmother felt for her stepson. Hating bastards was such a backward and infuriating thought, full of prejudice towards children that didn’t ask to be born with the weight of their parents' mistakes on their shoulders.

"For those who don't know our guests yet..." Here Lord Stark shot a look at Arya, Bran, and baby Rickon who smiled shyly. "This is Lady Amalthea Peverell, and her adviser and guardian, sir Kadeem."

“It is a pleasure to meet you all, we thank you for your hospitality.” Thea commented quickly, accompanied by Kreacher who also thanked them.

"Sit down, please." Catelyn then gestured with her hand and servants came in bringing plates full of food.

Thea took the vacant seat in front of the Lords of that castle, with Sansa sitting on her right side and Kadeem on her left, who was flanked by Bran and Arya. Next to Catelyn was little Rickon who blushed when Thea greeted him kindly. To Eddard's right was his heir and then Theon and Jon, respectively. Jon seemed to be as far away from his stepmother as possible.

The long table was quickly filled with food and drinks: freshly baked bread that smelled wonderful, salt, hot butter, honey, and blackberry jam to go with it. There was also cheese, fruit, bacon and boiled eggs, beer, water, and tea. Everything had a warm, delicious, and mouth-watering look.

"Welcome to my home and my table." Said the patriarch.

“Thank you again, my Lord.”

They waited for Lord and Lady Stark to help each other first, and then each began to eat. They ate of his bread, drank of his wine and so the right of the guest was complete, a sacred law throughout Westeros. When invoked, neither a guest nor a host can hurt each other during this visitation period, or they would face the wrath of the gods, whether they are the New or the Old. After seconds of somewhat uncomfortable silence, Catelyn said: "I hope everything is to your liking..."

"It is, my Lady, don't worry." Said Kreacher, who was trying not to show how much he felt out of place at the table. Thea knew that he had never been treated well by the Black family - only by his master Regulus - and that the elf had never before been considered an equal and not just a slave... but that was starting to change since the elf was now in charge of the young woman. She caught a glimpse of Dobby's big eyes when she blinked and had to swallow a piece of bread to keep from thinking about the sadness.

"Everything is very tasty, Lady Stark." Thea commented seeing the other woman nod, who didn't seem to know what else to say. Well, they were both in the same situation then. Fortunately, the little red-haired girl beside her broke the silence once again.

"Do you like your dress, Lady Peverell?" She asked timidly, throwing curiosity and admiration at her.

"I love it, it is extremely beautiful." It was true, the dress was beautiful, long and warm, and it clung tightly to her curves showing her feminine figure very well.

If possible, Sansa blushed, even more, the bright red spreading quickly across her face until it reached the root of her hair. "I helped mother make it."

"Oh!" Exclaimed Thea with wide green eyes and a huge smile with white teeth. “Lady Sansa, I have to tell you that you have fairy-like hands then. It really is an exquisite work.”

Lady Stark watched the eldest daughter affectionately and proudly, albeit with some hesitation towards Amalthea. But that was soon forgotten when she wiped Rickon's face, which was all sticky with jam.

"Thank you." Whispered the little girl, still very flushed. "Maybe we can make a dress together one day." Her nightingale voice was full of hope.

"I would love to, but I confess that I am not as skilled with a needle as you are." Thea confessed while praising her.

On her left side came a snort of disdain. Arya looked at her sister with an incredulous expression. “Sansa loves these feminine things... Dance, poetry, music, and sewing. There will not be a day when she is not seen daydreaming about princes and knights.”

"Arya!"

Arya shrugged her parents' rebukes and no longer controlled her tongue: “When can I see your sword? Does it have a name? I feel that Maester Luwin has already told us, but honestly, I didn't pay much attention. Do you know how to use it? Can I see you training?”

Encouraged by his sister and avoiding the eyes of his parents, Bran continued where she left off: "Do you know how to use a bow too, my Lady?"

"That is enough, both of you!" Catelyn practically growled. "These are not ways or questions to ask a lady!"

For a moment Thea felt almost twelve years old again, watching Molly Weasley scold Ron, Fred, and George after they rescued her from the horrible uncles' house with a flying car. In no way wanting to cause trouble for the children and seeing their sad little faces, Thea said, "Oh don't worry Lady Stark, they didn't cause me any trouble. I don't mind their questions."

The older woman looked hesitant, before nodding her head full of red hair and giving her children a threatening look.

"Answering then..." Amalthea continued, seeing that she had the attention of the two children - as well as that of the others - in herself. "I am reasonable with a sword since I recently started my training. With a bow, I admit that I am a little worse, but I would be able to hit an enemy if they did not move like the training dolls."

It wasn't all a lie but it wasn't all true either. She was more than reasonable with a sword, which in fact surprised her despite the short training time she had... she could hit a target with an arrow also reasonably since she was great at aiming her spells. But admitting all of her attributes right from the first conversation didn’t please her very much… It was a different and dangerous world, and having a few tricks up her sleeve could prove useful in the future... which was an ironic thing to think about as she actually had her wands on her sleeves.

Bran's little face was interested and Arya opened her mouth again to say something when a laugh was heard on the other side.

It was the Greyjoy boy who smiled prettily and his blue eyes seemed deeply pleased with what they saw when he once again ran them over her body, despite his laughter being nothing more than pure contempt. His loud laughter interrupted all the different conversations that took place around the table.

"Is there anything you want to share, Theon?" Eddard asked with a warning tone in his voice as if trying to stop him already. He knew the young man too well, and he knew that something extremely evil could come out of his mouth.

"I couldn't help hearing Lady Peverell's words..." He gave an ugly smile.

With her lips pressed together in a line that almost seemed to disappear, Thea said with feigned innocence, "Did I say something funny to be the subject of so much laughter? If so, tell me what, because I would love to join."

Theon let out another low laugh, whispered something to Robb and Jon who were staring at him with empty expressions and he was quick to reply, "I just wonder why a woman needs to learn to wield a sword or use a bow."

Out of the corner of her eye, the Potter heiress saw Kreacher suddenly tense up trying to avoid bewitching the other man at that very moment, when he caught the tone of voice with which he addressed his Mistress.

The atmosphere around them became tense, Arya and Bran had their mouths wide open, Sansa was suddenly pale, Jon and Robb were wide-eyed because their friend had the courage of such arrogance and the Lord and Lady Stark looked furious. The only one who seemed uninterested was little Rickon who didn't understand what was going on and stuck his face in the crispy bacon.

Oh, how tired the young Potter was of people like him. Calm on the outside, although deeply enraged on the inside, Amalthea replied: "Those are the words of someone who was not unfortunate enough to be born a woman in a world where men want to rule."

Theon blinked over and over again: "What?"

Sipping her tea slowly, creating an even more tense air with her delay Amalthea replied with a voice that hid malice: "You speak with the privilege and security that many women will never have in their lives. You, who are a man, can be and do what you want while thousands of girls are sold every day as cattle by their parents in exchange for money or material goods, and they have no right to any opinion in their own future. Boys are taught to be knights, and girls taught to be good and obedient wives. Tell me, can you see the difference in these situations?"

Stunned and red in the face, Theon was slow to find the right words. Perhaps he thought Thea would smile and say nothing more about it, just as he was used to all the castle servants. But Amalthea would never again let anyone scorn her. Finally, he refuted: "But you are a Lady. What is the reason for learning to fight when others can and will fight for you?"

"And the fact that I am a Lady of a great House will change the fact that there are cruel and vile men in the world? Do you know what these men do to certain unfortunate souls? Of course, you do, but you don't care... it's nothing worth your thinking, is it? Ironborn themselves commit this sin with those they call salt wives. Do you think that being Lady Peverell protects me? There are some even more hideous men who may see this as a challenge. What if I found myself alone with no one to protect me? Should I be complacent and let them try to break my spirit? No, Theon Greyjoy, I will not let that happen because fortunately, I had people in my life who told me to fight for myself because no one else would. And I will always fight, whether with a bow, a sword, nails or teeth. We need to know how to protect ourselves in any way because the fact of knowing how to sing, dance or sew or how you said, be of _ high birth _ , will not stop anyone from trying to hurt us."

And with that, the uncomfortable silence fell within the stone walls of the Great Hall. Theon didn't seem to know where to hide his face, he tried to refute but his tongue curled up in such a way that if he tried to pronounce a single word, he would just stutter.

Sansa was extremely shocked looking now at Theon, now at Amalthea and now at her mother - which who was pale and extremely ashamed, and struck the arrogant boy in such a way that Thea felt great satisfaction. Her husband spoke only a few words to Theon: "We will talk later" but that was enough to make the skin on the young man's face turn white as snow.

"My Lady, forgive me for my wards rude words." Said Lord Stark, deeply embarrassed.

"There is nothing to forgive, my Lord. I am sure this was just a misunderstanding." Amalthea looked at Theon who turned as red as a tomato, and who grudgingly nodded.

Beside him, the stern Jon Snow smiled slightly, as did Kadeem, who was delighted that the young Greyjoy had been put in his place. Robb Stark, who had his copper-colored hair shining in the morning light, was staring at her openly with a warm glow in his eyes that Thea could not identify. He smiled, however, and the black-haired woman reciprocated.

Without further ado, Amalthea continued to eat what was still left on her plate amid the sighs of admiration of young Arya, extremely pleased with herself.


	10. Chapter VIII

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey guys, I know it's been a while but here is the new chapter. As I told you, I already had 4 chapters written and this was supposed to be just a chapter with a maximum of 7k words, but I combined two of them to make them in Chapter 8 (this one) and the other two chapters were also combined to be Chapter 9.  
> I was only supposed to post this chapter on the 25th as a Christmas gift, but I couldn't stand the wait and as it is already the 24th for me and here for us Christmas is most celebrated on the 24th (we opened the gifts at midnight of the 24th to 25th, instead of the morning of the 25th) I decided to post sooner.  
> I know this year has been a very difficult year for everyone, but I hope you are safe and happy with those you love. I thank you all for the support you have given to this story, and my greatest fear is to disappoint you... I've not being able to write because it seems that I am out of ideas and that is sincerely killing me.  
> Anyway, you don't want to know about it xD enjoy the chapter, and Merry Christmas!

The rest of the meal was spent slowly and in a heavy climate. The only sound that sometimes broke the uncomfortable silence was the clink of silverware hitting the plates, the sound of life outside, and small conversations between the occupants. The older members of the Stark family and the Greyjoy boy had extremely tight bodies of tension, and the food now tasted bitter and seemed to be hard to swallow.

The younger children didn’t seem to understand what had happened, they only knew that Theon and Lady Peverell had had a little conversation, or perhaps a disagreement and that for some reason their parents seemed angry.

The truth is that Theon disrespected a guest, a noble lady, and friend of the wolf family and, as such, all the wrong acts committed by him were also committed by the Starks, since he was protected from Winterfell. While some found Amalthea's words somewhat pretentious or out of order, they had no intention of offending the last Peverell and dishonoring their own family. This was the case of the matriarch, who was Southern style and that was what she wanted to teach her daughters to be as well - kind, quiet, supportive and obedient to their parents and their future husbands - and not the ideas that the other girl seemed to have to determine what it was like to be a woman.

However, Catelyn couldn’t deny that some things that Thea had said was true: such as the evil in the hearts of certain men who saw women as a means to an end.

With everything in mind, Theon remained as still as a mouse, sulking in his place beside the other two boys who didn’t speak to him during the rest of the meal. Knowing that he would later be greatly reprimanded for his actions, he didn’t say another word and continued to eat the eggs that for the first time in his life they tasted bitterly, with fury in his eyes. Lord Stark was a man who did not tolerate any dishonorable act, whether that act was against a mere farmer or a well-born Lady, and his wards behavior would not go unpunished.

Kadeem kept silent once more, with mixed feelings... he was angry at the disrespect that, that human (Thea didn’t like him to yield to the prejudiced teachings of the Black family and offend muggles, even if they sometimes deserved it) showed to his lady... and at the same time, he was extremely proud of Sirius' goddaughter and the way she was not silenced. Kreacher was sure that his beloved master Regulus would have liked to have met Amalthea Potter.

In fact, Thea herself was in no way bothered during the rest of the meal. In fact, she was quite satisfied. She knew that she had said too much after her little speech, and she also knew that in that world and time women's rights was not something that was addressed, maybe she shouldn't have said anything... But that presumptuous boy was quick to get her blood, boiling it seemed to bubble up like rivers of lava running through her body and filling her with fury. Seeing the arrogant smile fall from his was the best part of that morning, and the contentment would follow her for the rest of the day. However, Thea was aware that she would have to be careful with what she said, and with the tone she spoke.

She was a strong and independent woman, knowledgeable in the magic arts, a fighter, and a justicer... But even so, she was a woman in a world of men, and if there was one thing that men feared it was a woman they couldn’t control. For now, Amalthea would try to keep a low profile - if that were even possible since her name was already in every mouth in every corner of Winterfell.

Finally, after breakfast was over, Lord Stark suggested, for some reason, that his heir would show his guests around Winterfell. Why his son and not another servant they didn’t know, but perhaps Eddard thought that the winter land should be presented by a Stark.

"As I said earlier, you will always have a place here and you will be able to stay for as long as necessary. As such, it will be wise for you to visit my home, my Lady. Robb will take care of your guided tour." These were his words.

His son didn’t object, in fact, he seemed quite satisfied while his bastard brother exchanged glances with him. The truth is that Robb knew that he would have to spend the rest of the day listening to complaints from his friend Theon, and since he was now busy with the guests, Jon Snow would be in charge of listening to him. Spending a few moments with a beautiful young woman (and her guardian) didn't seem like a bad thing.

Who wasn’t satisfied at all with this arrangement was little Arya, the wolf-blooded girl, wild in her little body despite her voice sounding like a giant when she said: "But I also want to go." When her mother told her that she couldn't because in a few moments she would have a singing class, and in the afternoon a sewing one, she said: "I don't want to spend the day closed in a room with Sansa and the other stupid girls! Why I can't go with them?"

The girl only calmed down when Thea promised that she would join her in the sewing class, and in a whisper, she also said that later on she might be able to show her _Soteira_ , her ancestral sword, but only if she behaved. Lady Catelyn's look was appraising, but maybe it would have been different if she knew what was whispered.

And with that they all went about their daily business and Thea, Robb and Kadeem passed through the massive oak doors of the Great Hall, being greeted once again by the cold morning wind.

The people, seeing Winterfell's heir pass by, were quick to interrupt their tasks for a few seconds in order to greet their Lord’s eldest son and the two strangers who had given so much to speak of. When they were already far away out of reach, they turned to each other and whispered. So they would spend the rest of the day, exchanging words in the middle of work, very intrigued by those two.

Robb did a really good job as a guide, he showed the various points of interest and told part of its story.

They went first to the First Keep, the oldest part connected to the castle, a low and square structure. Wolf's head gargoyles snarled overhead at any threat that tried to approach. In its surroundings was an old cemetery where the ancient Kings of Winter, dead for hundreds of years, they buried their most reliable and loyal servants.

The Broken Tower, which followed, was exactly as the name indicated, _broken_. It was an extremely tall, thin, and circular structure, of cold gray stone, with windows here and there, and at the top a huge peeled hole. It was completely eaten by time, and just as their gaze stretched upward, a stone shifted, falling and rolling, breaking as it descended. The noise was enough to make the dozens of crows that inhabited the tower fly, disappearing into the air in the middle of a sea of dark feathers and indignant squawks. Over a hundred years ago, the structure was struck by lightning, which caused a huge fire, destroying it, and also giving it the name Burned Tower.

Robb showed them a small sept which was a gift offered by Lord Stark to Lady Catelyn, as she followed a different religion from that of the Northmen, who were devoted to the Ancient Gods. Seven stone figures looked at them with dull eyes and empty expressions, three were male (the Father, the Warrior, and the Smith), three were female (the Mother, the Maiden, and the Crone) and one who was neither one nor the other, represented there as a skeletal and non-human being. In a way, the Stranger reminded her of the hooded and black-winged figure she saw.

Then they went to the Glass Garden, a beautiful greenhouse that was an ocean of colors due to all the vegetables, fruits, and flowers that were grown there. It was a hot and humid structure heated by hot springs and left the faces of the three shining with sweat. The scent of jasmine, orchids, and roses filled their noses pleasantly, and Robb surprised Thea by going to one corner of the greenhouse and offering her a rose he picked up.

"Here, my Lady..." Said the copper-haired man, carefully removing the thorns from the thin green stem with a silver dagger that he kept with him, and handing her the small flower in his larger hands, with the tip of his ears red from embarrassment.

Amalthea had stood looking at him in astonishment for a few seconds, looking at his face and at the flower that was offered to her. The rose was beautiful and delicate, and the petals were painted a shade of royal blue, even more blue than his eyes. "Oh, I..." she exclaimed, stunned, not knowing what to say. It was a beautiful and gentlemanly gesture, but it was an unexpected and somewhat pleasant act. It had been a polite little action and a nice attempt to make her feel welcome to Winterfell.

When was the last time someone offered her flowers? In her mind was a vivid image of Fred, with his fiery hair kissed by the fire, with a bouquet of white lilies in his hands, and a mischievous smile on his freckled and passionate face. Thea had been happy then, extremely happy before... before his death. The young woman's heart sank painfully and she wished to summon his spirit to see him, to remember...

Robb Stark continued to speak, despite Amalthea's silence: "They were my aunt's favorite roses." He commented looking at her in the green eyes that shone sadly with memories unknown to him. "I hope you like it."

The girl forced herself to smile.

"It’s beautiful." Thea confessed, taking the flower that was now handed to her in a sweet gesture. Their hands touched slightly and she felt the warmth of Robb's skin on her own. She raised the rose to her nose and smelled the soft, exquisite smell that it emanated. "Thank you very much, my Lord, you are very kind."

"Can I?" Robb gestured something and when Amalthea returned the flower to him, with all the delicacy of the world the young man placed it in her dark and wild hair, looking at her weirdly making her a little uncomfortable. Did she have something on her face? Was he looking at the few freckles that dotted her nose, or was he looking at the ugly scar on her forehead? Thea knew too well that that damn thing had always been a point of interest for everyone.

A slight scratching of a throat, coming from Kreacher who was watching, interrupted them.

Quickly, the three then left the Glass Garden to visit an underground site that the Stark heir said was the Crypts. Robb opened a slanted door made of solid wood, took a torch that burned a meter away and without further ado he entered, followed by Thea and Kadeem, in the reigning darkness. They descended and descended, always attentive to each small step of the spiral stairs that led them further and further below the ground. When there were no more stairs to go down (in fact there were still a few more, Robb explained that there was a deeper area, but that he would show them at another more appropriate time), they found themselves in a complex and cavernous place, lit by so many others torches and candles that burned here and there in red and orange light, forming shadows around them.

"This way." Indicated Robb, moving forward on a narrow path, with several stone pillars along its length.

Stone faces watched them, men of severe and majestic appearance were sitting on thrones every few meters, with ferocious giant wolves carved in the rock at their feet. Each figure had an iron sword on their knees, some already rusted and eaten by time. Robb was then saying their names: Brandon the Builder; Jon Stark and his son, Rickard, who succeeded him; Theon, the Hungry Wolf, one Edrick, another Brandon, and finally the one she already knew minimally... Torrhen Stark, the King-Who-Knelt.

This one Thea watched more carefully than the others, examining the features from his long face, from his wavy stone hair to the crown that adorned his temples. It was this king who had once found her ancestor alone in the snow, who dressed and fed him, who sold Moat Cailin, the house she wanted to rebuild and who became a good friend and confidant of Harlan Peverell. For some reason that she couldn't explain the statue of Torrhen seemed more sympathetic than all the others. Seeing her interest and her continued gaze, Robb commented: “While all the other kings of Westeros were fighting the invasion of Aegon and his sisters and losing thousands of lives in the dragon fire, Torrhen bent his knee, rested his crown at the Conqueror’s feet and spared his people a painful death by the flames.”

They abandoned the old Kings of Winter to their silent reign and went to three statues that, instead of sitting on thrones, were standing imposingly, striking in that darkness. The one in the middle was that of an older and rough-looking man, flanked by a younger man who had lines of laughter etched on his stone face and a maiden with long hair, with a rather sad expression on her beautiful and forever immortal face. They were also accompanied by wolves, the two men had their hands wrapped in long iron swords and the girl was holding beautiful blue roses like the one Thea had in her hair, still fresh and which looked as if it had just been picked.

Robb looked at those statues sadly but he decided not to say anything and seeing that it was a delicate matter, the other two made no questions. Then they left the darkness and the heavy air. Winterfell's heir returned the torch to its proper place and closed the door behind him.

"There is one more place to show you." Said Robb, once again extending his arm to the lady beside him as they walked.

The place he wanted to show was not far, in fact in a few minutes they arrived and after opening a cast-iron gate, the stone and walls gave way to trees and more trees, until at last they were surrounded by trunks, branches, and green leaves up there.

"What is this place?" Amalthea questioned, while beside her Kadeem scanned every corner with his eyes for any sign of danger.

“The Godswood. It's just a little further ahead, what I want to show you is not far away.”

The trees grew very close to each other, which created a dense set of tops that hid the sun, trying selfishly to keep the heat and light for themselves. Everything around it was painted in shades of green and brown, from grass and earth to wood and leaves. They left that concentration only to find themselves in an open place, with a lake of black water and one of the most beautiful trees that Thea had ever seen - and she had seen a lot, counting on the violent Whomping Willow at Hogwarts and so many others.

The weirwood was huge and broad, with bone-white branches and five-pointed red leaves. Its colors were beautiful, the wood strong and massive, the leaves looking very healthy. And it was old, very old, Thea knew it... she could feel it when she moved away from Robb and Kadeem, and she got closer and closer to that magnificent tree. For some reason the hissing of the wind was silenced, the birds' song too, even Robb's voice was getting lower when he said: “It's the Heart Tree, it is believed that the old gods watch over us through it."

A face was facing Amalthea when she was in front of the tree, a few inches away. Engraved on the ivory-white trunk were two eyes, a nose, a mouth, and wrinkles in the sad expression that the face seemed to have. Red sap slid through both eyes like fat tears of blood, like tears made with the essence of life.

The air crackled around her in a different way, the gentle wind caressed her face with something that seemed familiar and something that felt warm and good. Small shocks of electricity ran down the length of her body when, at last, she reached out and touched her right hand to the rough bark of the tree, feeling its roughness on her skin.

Everything became silent around her then, except the magic and the voices...

 _"Traveler..."_ Seemed to whisper some voices, one over the others, some old and some young in her ears, in her mind, around her.

_"You’ve arrived..."_

_"We were waiting for you..."_

_"Woman from another world..."_

_"Savior..."_

_"You are ours now, we will look after you..."_

_"And you will look after us.”_

_What?_ She wanted to question, scared. _Who are you? What do you want? How do you know such things about me?_ She thought she had opened her mouth to speak, prepared her voice to ask them several questions when her body was suddenly shaken with force, and she finally opened her green eyes that she didn’t know she had closed. Kreacher and Robb were looking at her with concern when the old man shook her and woke her up from whatever had kept her out of reality for a few minutes.

"Are you all right, my Lady?" Kreacher asked nervously, also looking at the tree that didn’t release Thea's gaze. He was pale, the color seemed to have drained from his face, and his voice was shaking.

"Yes..." Whispered Amalthea. _Can you feel it?_ she wanted to ask him.

Kadeem finally loosened his grip on her right shoulder, and let his arms fall to either side of his old body. He seemed to know exactly what she meant to say because his response was a nod, as he looked at her in amazement with touches of fear in his clear eyes.

 _He feels it too but he's scared. Did he hear what I heard? Did he feel the warmth in his veins or the comfort in his soul, just like I did? Did they speak to him? Who are they? What do they want? Why don't they say anything now that I need answers?_ Thought the young woman who had heard the voices of the dead before on several occasions, but never anything like that. She wanted to talk to them, listen to their words again, relieve her doubts and curiosity.

She felt Robb's heavy gaze on her when he examined all her features on her face, with a frown. The reddish curls contrasted with the white of the tree, as well as the sap of the carved face that kept crying.

 _What are you? Talk to me,_ she thought... but the big tree did not answer.

Getting rid of her thoughts as best she could, Thea then said: "It's beautiful... I don't think I ever set eyes on a tree more beautiful than this one."

"Yes, it is…" Robb agreed, still worried. "Are you alright, my Lady? You didn't move or answer for a few minutes."

Thea smiled in disguise, wanting to calm him and herself. "I was just amazed for a moment, that's all. I'm fine."

The young woman looked around, trying to think of something that would make him forget her strange behavior. She found her goal, took off her shoes in a gesture that was by no means something a lady of high birth would do, she sat by the lake and dipped her feet in the dark water. Robb remained in his place, shocked to look at her with curiosity and amusement, and when he saw that Kadeem had moved away to lean against a tree with a piece of wood in his hand that he was playing nervously, Robb decided to join the woman. It wasn't as if his mother or father were there to scold him for his behavior.

He also took off the boots that he wore day, rolled up the hem of his pants, sat on Thea's left, and dipped his feet in the cold water.

"Usually this is not something I would do, especially with a lady." He said.

Beside him Amalthea laughed, she let her hands and arms support her weight and leaned back, face up and eyes closed enjoying the moment. "Do not worry, I won't tell anyone."

"Thank you then, because hearing my mother scold me for my behavior is not on my to-do list today."

Even without seeing it, she heard his smile in his voice and she laughed in amusement. They remained silent for a few moments, enjoying the wind and the earthy smell that enveloped them, the melody of the birds, the sunlight through the branches of the trees...

"It is peaceful here." She commented looking at Robb.

He nodded, looking at the water he was playing with. "My father likes to come here to reflect."

"I can see the appeal, this place is silent… it lets us think, whether in the future or the past."

And she found herself thinking of another place far away, another world. _Would her friends be alright? What were they doing now? Did they miss her as much as she missed them? Teddy,_ Thea almost cried. _My dear Teddy, I wish to have you here with me. I love you, please forgive me... Please don't hate me!_

Robb made a low and calm sound in his throat, looking at a white rabbit that sniffed something with its small nose and that ran away when it heard his voice: "On the other side of the forest there are underground hot springs, it is three small divisions of hot water if you are curious to see. There are those who swim or bathe there."

Thea thought about that for a moment, leaving the memory of the turquoise-haired baby. It would be interesting to see this place that the boy talked about, but she felt at peace there, beside the lake and the huge weirwood with its beautiful red leaves like a thousand hands full of blood. She didn't want to leave, nor did she want to get up.

"Maybe later, if you don't mind." She said moving her neck and listening to the satisfying cracking of the bone, that she felt stuck due to all the days full of tension. "Can we stay here for a few more minutes?"

"I don't see why not." Robb looked at the sky, seeing the position of the sun, and calculating the hours. "We still have time before we have to go back for lunch."

"Great." Said Thea.

Thea's lips parted in a big and bright smile, her cheeks flushed with happiness. The Stark boy returned the smile. She looked at Kadeem, seeing the old man carving something on the piece of wood in his hands with a small knife, very serene but attentive to their conversation and any danger. It was Thea who gave him that knife, it belonged to the Black family and surprisingly, for the first time, it was not a dark or cursed object. Kadeem - or Kreacher, as he still liked to be called that because despite having a new name in that world, he would forever be Kreacher, the house-elf, he deserved small rewards for his loyalty, service, and companionship.

“What are you doing there, Kadeem? Join us, the water is wonderful even if a little cold.”

Kreacher raised his head and said: "I appreciate the invitation, my Lady, but I'm fine here."

Thea was unmoved by the rejection and looked at the work the old man had at hand. "What are you carving?"

"Oh, it's just an experiment." It looked like he blushed for a moment. "I do not know yet what it will be."

“I will be delighted to see the result, then. I have no talent for wood carving, but if you need me I will try to help.” She continued.

Kreacher thanked her, smiled, and went back to playing with the knife.

When Thea turned her face to Robb, she saw that he was already looking at her intently, with something warm in the pale blue of his eyes and a smile on his face. She splashed her feet absently. _Clap, clap, clap, was the sound_ made by the disturbance in the water.

"How long do you plan to stay in Winterfell, my Lady?" Robb asked.

Amalthea shrugged under the watchful eye of the young man beside her, who wondered what her mother would think in her different ways for a woman of high birth. “I don't know, honestly. As long as your father allows me, I suppose.”

"I understand." He replied. "My father and Maester Luwin said that you lived in Essos before you decided to come here..."

The Potter heiress smiled amusedly: "Do you know everything that has already been said about me?"

It was clear that he felt ashamed because of the way his body shrank with tension, and his ears and cheeks caught fire. "Forgive me."

“You have not offended me in any way, my Lord, it is normal to be curious. I myself am about you.”

"Are you really?" He opened his eyes wide.

"Well, of course... Tell me, what was it like growing up with so many siblings?"

Robb Stark thought for a while, thinking about it. “Well, as I am the oldest and the heir to my House, I suppose that more responsibility fell on my shoulders, since my behavior has to be right and make sure that my brothers behave the same. Not that I care, I love my siblings, it was great to grow up with them and I will always take care of them. What about you?"

"My parents were not blessed with any other children besides me. When I was younger I wanted someone next to me every night, a brother or sister to talk to and play with. I had no brothers, but I had wonderful friends who were as good as." Thea replied simply.

"Oh!" Exclaimed the young man beside her, curious. "Tell me about them, if it is not uncomfortable."

It wasn't uncomfortable, but it was sad to think about them and how she would never see them again.

"Well..." Began Amalthea, closing her eyes and traveling to the past in her mind. She could see them all smiling and laughing, having a good and warm time. "I met my first friend when I was ten and one. Ronald is a fire-haired boy, loyal and sympathetic to a flaw but with a temper that can sometimes be unpleasant, I suppose. Then came Hermione with a wildness of brown hair that she never managed to tame and warm brown eyes full of wisdom, the smartest girl I’ve ever met. There’s also Luna, this girl is a blonde angel, as pretty and pale as the moon, and as gentle and different as a fairy or forest nymph. Neville is a good friend, with dark hair and a round face, almost a brother in everything but blood, so dear and courageous... although he can be very clumsy, he is able to trip over his own feet on level ground.” They both laughed at his words, wondering.

> “There is also Ron's family, which was partly my second family too, and like you he has many siblings, all with red hair like him. He has a sister named Ginevra and the names of his brothers are William, Charles, Percy, George, and…” She was suddenly silent, the word stuck in her throat. She didn't want to show weakness to the other, she didn't want to show any weakness to anyone... but the subject was too painful. “And Fred. George and Fred are twins.”

Robb hummed thoughtfully, drinking her words like water. "They all look very interesting and friendly." He did not touch the point that seemed sensitive, and Thea thanked him internally for it.

"And they are." Thea agreed.

"Did they... stay in Essos?"

"Yes. They have their own lives, I couldn't ask them to follow me blindly to another country.” _To another world,_ she thought. "It would be selfish on my part after they have already given me a lot and helped me so much."

Robb seemed to understand perfectly what she was saying. "I understand, my Lady."

My Lady, Lady Peverell, Lady Amalthea... She was tired of so much formality, but there was nothing she could do to change that for now.

They remained silent for a while, listening to the hiss of the wind between the leaves, and the lives of the few animals around them. Thea played with the water, feeling its coldness on the skin of her feet and hands. When she tried to see the bottom of the lake, she only saw darkness.

"Your friend Theon doesn't seem to like me very much." She commented absently.

Robb's face became serious and somewhat afraid, when he seemed to want to avoid her gaze and that conversation. "Theon is a... complicated person."

"My words and actions seem to have offended him." Amalthea continued, seeing what the Winterfell heir would have to say in defense of his friend.

"I would not say that any offense was committed, but he has an idea of what the attitudes and behaviors of a typical Westeros woman are. Forgive him, however, if he has offended you in any way, Lady Peverell."

"And what are these typical woman's attitudes?" She wanted to know, raising a questioning black eyebrow.

Robb's shoulders found his ears when he flinched: "Well... we have always been taught that no woman should know how to handle a sword, dagger or bow. That they should be refined and feminine." The poor boy seemed to want to get out of there immediately.

Thea smiled, however. "Really? And who taught you that?"

"Everyone."

"And who taught them?"

Robb thought for a while. "The world, I suppose."

"I understand." The dark-haired, green-eyed woman looked at him with amusement. "Your younger sister seems very interested in my sword, however."

He seemed relieved and happy to be talking about something else. "Arya is a wild little thing, she wants to learn to fight but doesn't understand that she will never be allowed to."

Thea made a questioning sound: "And if one day she finds herself alone and perhaps she is attacked, and because of your idea of what a woman can or cannot do, she cannot defend herself?"

"No one will harm any of my sisters in Winterfell." Robb Stark looked almost angry just thinking about the hypothesis.

"What if they are not here?" Asked the Potter heiress.

"Where would they be?" When he spoke again, it was in his heavily accented Northern accent.

"Well..." She started with another shrug and carefulness. "The daughters of great lords are born and grow up to make treaties for their parents... Whether it is to join other houses to the family, or the desire of the great dowry, that is what they are created for. One day they will leave to get married and then, how do you know that they will not be defenseless or that they will not suffer with their husbands?"

The young man with the coppery hair was suddenly pale, and his blue eyes for the first time looked empty. He bit his lower lip with concern. He said nothing, but words were not necessary... Thea knew that he had never thought about it, nor had he ever been taught to do so. He certainly believed that his sisters' future husbands would treat them with all the love and respect in the world, but how could he know? How could he guarantee such a thing, when one day he would be Lord of Winterfell and his sisters would be miles and miles away, scattered around the world?

Amalthea then decided to change the subject and let the young wolf reflect on that later. "Tell me more about your home."

And so time passed with small talk between them. When they realized, it was already time to go back because it was time for lunch to be served. They joined Kadeem once more, who during all that time had been leaning against that tree carving, and he grudgingly and quite shyly showed his Mistress his work: it was a rose, with slight angular edges instead of smooth curves, but it was still a work in progress and was going in the right direction. The old man told her that he was inspired by the blue rose that Thea brought on her beautiful hair, and that if it wasn't too much presumption, he would like her to accept it when it is finished. Amalthea was extremely touched by the gesture, she thanked him, and said that she would appreciate the gift with all her heart.

Lunch came and went quickly, and Thea was forced to keep her promise to accompany Arya to her sewing class. Not that they were able to concentrate too much on the lesson, the younger girl kept talking and asking questions: _“Where did you go?”_ , _“What did Robb show you?”_ , _“Did you like it, my lady?”_ , _“This is so boring!”_ and of course, _"Can you show me your sword, later?"_

Thea laughed silently, with the knowledge that she was the target of close attention from the female figures that occupied that room. She concentrated herself on the white handkerchief she was embroidering while answering Arya's questions, but in the end, she noticed that the figure was curiously taking the form of a little Snitch, and then under the suspicious look of Septa Mordane (who was old, with a wrinkled and bony face, with sharp eyes and a pursed mouth) she embroidered a golden sun instead of the magical object that her subconscious seemed to want to create.

They were also accompanied by a girl named Jeyne Poole, daughter of Winterfell's steward, who was laughing and whispering to Sansa across the room. Jeyne was beautiful, with smooth features, brown eyes, and dark hair, and seemed to be the best friend of the other Stark girl.

Beside her Arya cringed each time she pricked a finger and was the target of more giggles from the other two, and a frustrated look from Septa. She sucked the blood bubble and sighed... a sigh that seemed too resigned and sad.

"Do not worry." Thea said in a whisper, seeing this.

“I will never succeed, I don't know why I try. They laugh at me and I still have to keep going even when I don’t want to.” The girl’s voice trembled, and her clear eyes were filled with tears that she insisted on not dropping.

Amalthea's heart heaved at the sight of her little sad face, and she gave the two girls a stern look. Sansa seemed suddenly shy enough, while Jeyne looked confused by her companion's complete silence.

"Look at mine..." The last Peverell showed her the fabric.

"It looks beautiful, my lady."

"Do you really think so?"

"Yes."

“Well, if you notice carefully my stitches are very uneven, here and here. There too. Can you see it? This was supposed to be completely round to resemble a sun, but it is too angular. And you know... There is no problem with that.”

Arya saw in Thea's embroidery all the defects she pointed out. She looked at her own who must have been a wolf but looked more like an animal never seen before, with uneven legs and a flattened snout.

"There isn’t?" She asked timidly.

"No." Amalthea assured. "We aren’t all good at everything."

“But I have to be. Everyone wants that, but I'm not good enough. Embroidering is stupid, just like singing or dancing!”

"What are you good at, then?"

"I..." Arya seemed to think for a second. "I think I'm good with numbers and history, but what is the use of that?"

Thea smiled softly at her. “Mathematics is very important, and one day when you are the lady of a castle, you will need to know how many men you have at your service, how much money you will have, and how much you can spend on food and supplies, for example. And history is the basis of life. It is good to know our past, where we came from, and what we did, to know who are the allies and enemies of our house through the documents of history.”

"I suppose so." Arya replied hesitantly, pondering the words that were said. "But..." She looked at her work again, unhappy.

Thea asked Septa Mordane for a new handkerchief, who looked at her curiously, and handed it to a confused Arya. “Do not be afraid to try again, only practice leads to perfection, try to start with something easier like a simple flower or your name. And if you fail, then try again. There is no shame in that.”

She saw that the others tried to be discreet but that they also heard her words. And for the first time in a class she was always so upset about, Arya smiled and concentrated herself intensely on her sewing, determined and knowing that if she failed, she could try again.

Meanwhile outside the castle there was the sound of wood hitting wood. In the training yard, three young male figures battled each other, spinning and dodging each other's attacks. They were Robb Stark, Theon Greyjoy and the bastard, Jon Snow.

“I cannot believe that I was scolded in this way by your father. Do you know how long I stayed in that room, listening to him talk to me about my inappropriate behavior?” Theon said, charging at Robb while Jon stayed away, drinking water.

"Give thanks to the Gods for not being my mother instead." Said the heir of Winterfell.

Theon visibly trembled, imagining that possibility. "Yes, I would still be there if it had been Lady Catelyn."

The other two laughed out loud, and Robb invested this time and was quickly blocked.

"The way that woman spoke to me..." The Greyjoy boy commented, angry and disgusted when he remembered what had happened. His face already red from physical exertion, turned scarlet, and sweat ran down his forehead in fat drops. “Who does she think she is? A woman talking like that…”

"Stop." Robb warned him, managing to dodge the sword coming from his left, and striking the right side of Theon's torso, which later would surely leave a dark mark. This one swore in frustration and paused, going to drink water as well. Robb watched him still in his place, breathing heavily.

"Something I can not deny is your previous words.” Theon commented between sips: "She is really beautiful as you said. Now her manners and the ugly scar that disfigures her forehead..." After a while, he stopped to think and licked his lips in an ugly and disgusting gesture. "Although something like this is easy to ignore if we are in bed with her. Did you see that chest? There were moments when I couldn't look away."

"Don't talk like that! She is a lady of noble blood and invited by my father, don't disrespect her." Scolded the copper-haired man.

"I don't say anything that is not true.” Theon refuted. "The scar is curious, however, not many would show such disfigurement on the skin with such pride. Her hair is long enough to hide, but she doesn't. Most women would cry with disgust and hide their faces with shame."

Jon spoke for the first time since that topic was addressed. "I do not think Lady Peverell would shed tears at a mere scar, if everything Lord Stark told us is true."

"The scar is barely noticeable." Robb defended his brother.

Seeing that he was practically being attacked on both sides, Theon turned to Jon, who was looking at him sternly. “And what do you know, bastard? It's not like women ever talk to you.”

Jon didn't speak. He pursed his lips in a severe line and narrowed his eyes with furrowed brows of disapproval and anger.

"Theon..." Robb's voice was full of frustration.

Satisfied with himself due to Snow's lack of response, the Kraken boy then turned to the other. "And you! You are there trying to scold me when you think the same, and you know it’s the truth. I saw how you couldn't take your eyes off our guest for more than a minute." Theon teased with malice in his expression.

Robb's sweaty face was dyed pink when he blushed. He opened and closed his mouth, trying to refute, but luckily he was interrupted by a nearby shout.

"What are you doing there?" It was Sor Rodrik Cassel, the Master-at-Arms of Winterfell, who was approaching with long strides. He was strong in spite of being a little old, broad, and with white chops so big that he could braid one another. "I went away for a moment and on my way back I find you whispering like little girls?"

"We were-" Theon tried to answer.

"I do not care. Jon, Robb, to the center! It's your turn now.”

The brothers exchanged a look, tired and at the same time amused, but definitely relieved to be able to escape the subject that was being discussed, and the petty words of their friend. So in that way, they passed the afternoon.

That night Amalthea Potter laid on the bed, closed her eyes, and dreamed of the past.

_She knew where she was. She had lived there the best and worst years of her life. She knew that place: the long corridors, the sounds of laughter and conversation of hundreds of teenagers, the pictures that moved, talked and waved... That was Hogwarts, her safe haven, her home._

_Ron and Hermione accompanied her as they climbed the stone stairs, which occasionally changed to the right or left trying to trick the students into taking the wrong path. These two kept themselves engaged in a conversation or a discussion - something that was already a habit and that almost nobody cared about anymore - and Thea remained silent and amused by their side, listening to their words but not paying much attention._

_"Honestly, Ronald, I never met anyone who was as tactful as you."_

_"But what's the problem? I didn't do anything."_

_"Nothing? Didn't you do anything? Oh, tell me then-"_

_Honestly, Thea didn't even remember what they were discussing anymore. When they reached the picture of Fat Lady, she was once again trying to break a cup with her voice, in a high-pitched and not very beautiful way. Seeing that none of the three friends gave her due attention and respect, she bitterly let them pass after Hermione said the secret word._

_The passage opened like a door, the Fat Lady coming face to face with the wall when she disappeared from view, and finally they entered the heat of the Gryffindor Common Room. The room was round and decorated in shades of red and gold, with large windows and an even bigger fireplace, and several armchairs, sofas, chairs and tables, and everything that could make the room as welcoming as possible. It was full of students, some studying, others simply living. Thea swept the space seeing that happily the armchairs in front of the fireplace were available, so in a quick gesture she approached one before another student tried to occupy it, with the other two following and occupy their respective places._

_She had just sat down, when her peace was suddenly interrupted by a close cry: "Hey, Potter!"_

_"Oh no..." Exclaimed Ron completely forgetting what he was saying to Hermione, who also fell silent, and watched what would follow._

_Thea took a deep breath, asking for strength and patience from all the deities in the world. She put a fake smile on her face and in the calmest possible voice, replied: "Yes, Fred?"_

_Fred Weasley, tall and thin, with fire-colored hair and a freckled face, strode up with a huge smile, and George at his side tried to contain his laughter as he followed his brother. When he finally got close to him, he sat on the left arm of the chair and threw his own right arm over Thea's shoulders. The young girl's face became bitter when she looked at the other's arm, with poison in her eyes, as if that limb was burning._

_"Did you like my present?" He asked with a wink. Hermione, Ron and George swallowed the laughs they wanted to escape even though Hermione tried to pretend she wasn't paying attention when she took a book out of her bag and pretended to be reading._

_"No." Thea replied dryly, trying to remove the arm from the boy who was pulling her against him._

_"Why not?"_

_"Because-!" She abruptly stopped herself, seeing that there were onlookers all over the room trying to overhear the conversation. She let out a severe snort, and continued to fight Fred who wouldn't let her out of his clutches as he continued to laugh: "Because I didn’t, now get lost."_

_“I didn’t see anything wrong with it. Did you, George?” He asked his twin._

_"No, Fred, I think it was a perfectly acceptable gift." George threw an apologetic smile at Thea when he was struck by her gaze, but the girl knew that he was enjoying his brother's jokes immensely._

_If it were possible Thea would now be smoking smoke out of her ears. Her face was deeply red with shame and fury. “Oh, shut up. Get out, I told you. There are many places where you can sit, you don't have to be clinging to me._

_Fred pretended not to hear her words when he continued to speak: “In fact, I have been praised many times today. People seem to have found it pleasant.”_

_Amalthea's hands shook and she had to clench her fists tightly to try to avoid putting them around the redhead's neck, and choke him until he promised to leave her alone. She closed her eyes taking a deep breath, remembering what had happened that morning._

_She, as well as Hermione and Ron, were in the Great Hall enjoying a delicious breakfast, full of bacon, buttered toast and pumpkin juice, talking about the lessons they would have that day. As usual, owls entered the windows in a sea of feathers of different colors, carrying letters and packages on their beaks and paws to deliver. Surprisingly, Hedwig landed in front of her with a small blue box with a large green bow._

_“Hey my beauty, what are you bringing me today? I wasn't expecting anything. Is it from Snuffles?” She gave her a slice of bacon, which the white owl hooted happily immediately began to eat, and Thea inspected the box now in her hands._

_"Whose is it? It's his?" Questioned Hermione, puzzled._

_"I don't know, it doesn't say anything."_

_"Open and see what it is." Said Ron with his mouth full of food and his eyes full of curiosity._

_Thea shrugged confusedly, and carefully pulled the noose and removed the cap. It was the worst thing she could have done, for at that moment there was an explosion, and tiny lights of different colors escaped from the box that was its prison and floated above her head, swirling and spinning in a tornado of color and brightness. She tried to fend off the little lights that looked like little fairies like flies. Everyone around her looked and whispered, having noticed what was happening, some laughing and others looking dumbfounded._

_Hedwig had already fled with all the loud noises, hooting indignantly and also furiously, taking off with a piece of bacon in her beak that she stole from the red-haired boy._

_"What is?" She exclaimed. “Get this off me, Hermione. Help me!"_

_"It is forming words." Ron exclaimed with toast on his way to his mouth._

_"What!?" The Potter heiress started, looking up and trying to decipher. It was true. The tiny blue, yellow, purple and pink lights came together to form something that Thea could not read, since she was looking under._

_"Amalthea Potter is a good name, but it would be even better with Weasley on the end." Hermione read in a whisper, watching her friend's face with concern, seeing that it was turning a terrible shade of purple due to anger._

_"Do something!" Thea pleaded hearing the laughter of all her colleagues._

_Hermione took the wand and was about to try a spell when there was a minor explosion, and the lights turned to pink glitter that fell on Thea's hair, face and shoulders. Some still fell on her plates, and Ron was almost dying with disgust when he saw his bacon glistening with the various sparkling particles._

_"Weasley!" She shouted, startled, scanning the place with her eyes. Her ears burned from all the laughter and comments being targeted at her. Finally she found her enemy running with his twin brother out of the hall. "Weasley come back here, don't even think about escaping!"_

_Fred was still smirking at him now, with a red brow raised high. "What did you think?"_

_"Fred..." Thea said tiredly, and her face was still red. She gave up fighting and confessed: “You embarrassed me. I didn't have time to take a shower and the glitter didn't come out with magic. I was the target of teasing and comments from the stupid Malfoy all morning, and when Snape saw me he took fifty points and detained me for three days. He loved that moment, for sure, he was almost dancing when he left.”_

_Fred's handsome smile fell from his face at this, and his expression was serious and a little hurt. His sky-blue eyes seemed to lose their luster and became sad. "I-"_

_"It's all right." She sighed._

_“It wasn't my intention, Thea, you know that. I would never do anything to try to embarrass you or bring humiliation. It was a joke, I thought you would like it.” He whispered._

_Amalthea smiled seeing the truth in his words. Fred could be many things, but he would never do anything with bad intentions about her. "I know Fred, just... Pay more attention for the next one."_

_The older boy smiled at her sheepishly, even when he was pulled by George who said that Lee was waiting for them for something and that they were already late, which seemed really suspicious to everyone who witnessed it._

_"But I repeat again, Potter..." said Fred before leaving completely through the passage that led to the outside._

_"What?" She inquired, confused._

_The naughty smile was back: “Amalthea Weasley is still better.” And he escaped with the sound of laughter from Hermione, Ron and George, leaving a furious dark-haired girl behind, with a tiny smile on her flushed face._

When she woke up, her face was stained with tears and her heart was racing. It was still night, Thea knew it from the darkness of the room. She got up, leaving the comfort of the bed, going to the table where the metal tray with the water jug and glasses was. She filled one and stood there drinking and shivering, and swallowing her tears as she swallowed the cold liquid. Putting the glass down again, she went to the fireplace where the embers were almost out, stirred them with the iron poker, and threw another log into it. She watched it burn until it brought light and warmth to the room

_"Did you dream about me again?"_

"Yes." She said, looking at the bed where Fred's ghostly figure now rested, sitting peacefully watching her.

_"What was it this time?"_

She smiled through her tears. "In the fourth year, when you decided to offer me something over breakfast that had me covered in brilliant pink."

He smiled at her as well. _“Ah yes, it was a good time. Everyone was impressed with my ability to win your heart. ”_

"In fact." Thea raised an eyebrow and went to join him with a shaky step.

_"If it was a good dream, why are you crying?"_

"I miss you. I want you here with me.”

Fred sighed sadly, caressing her face, trying and unable to shake the tears that escaped her green eyes. Thea clung to his touch as much as she could, imagining it was hot again instead of icy. _"I know. There is nothing I want more than to be with you again. What we had was beautiful, magical and the purest form of love there is. I still love you just as you still love me. But I am dead and you are alive, T. So you must learn to live without me."_

"I don't want to, I will never want to." She promised hoarsely.

 _"You will."_ Fred assured her. _"And when you do, I want you to know that it is alright."_

"What are you saying?" Thea withdrew his transparent hands in anger, immediately regretting it, and picking it up again. Even the touch of his spirit was better than no touch from Fred.

_"One day you will understand."_

She was silent, feeling the salty taste of tears in her mouth, feeling a tremor in her body that wasn't cold. Her heart was beating loudly and sadly, and she wanted to hear Fred's heartbeat, which once soothed her dozens of times, but when she put her head close to the ghost's chest, she heard nothing. Nothing but the sound of her own blood that roared in her ears in a provocative way. _You're alive, you fool,_ it seemed to say _. He isn’t, so why are you still trying?_

But her heart ached, her soul ached, it all hurt. It was a strong pain with every pulse, with every breath of air that she breathed. The air no longer smelled of his wonderful cologne even though she was so close to his body. The air around Fred didn't smell like anything and it just made her want to cry more.

Nothing was heard in the room. It was just them: a living girl and a dead boy, and both were unhappy. A boy who deserved more, who was all smiles and laughter, and who only brought joy to the world when he was alive.

Thea tried to control the tears, and Fred could do no more than watch. "I'm being silly." She said.

 _"If I could cry, I would cry with you."_ He confessed.

Amalthea knew it was true, and it just made her love him a little more. He tried to cheer her up for the rest of the time they were there, the two of them together, side by side on the bed, but not really being together.

 _“Do you remember how we met? What a skinny little thing you were.”_ He commented receiving a weak laugh from Thea, and then he continued. _"Even at that time, I knew there was something special about you and I was right."_

"I wish you were wrong."

_"I don’t. You were born to do amazing things, T. I was lucky to be by your side at those moments, and I will be here to watch you in those that you will still do.”_

“I would trade everything I did, if I could, just to have you here. I couldn't save you.”

_“Nobody could, it was my time. It doesn't matter. I'm still with you, living through you, and George, and my family and friends.”_

"Fred," Thea sighed. " Can you still see them?"

Fred nodded. _“Yes, the fact that you are in another world does not affect us. Your parents and Sirius remain mainly here, when they are not on the other side, but Remus and I have already traveled there... to them.”_

The girl started with tears already forgotten. "How are they?"

 _"They're fine, as far as possible, I suppose."_ He replied. _"But they miss you."_ But there was something sad about his translucent expression and calm voice.

"What about George?" Thea questioned, knowing that it was the twin brother's absence that affected her beloved.

Fred seemed reluctant to say anything, shrugged, played with his hands linked, and finally replied, seeing that she would not let the matter down. _“He keeps himself locked in the room, he doesn't want to see anyone. He doesn’t even want to see himself. He broke all the mirrors he found.”_

Thea felt all the hairs rise when a shiver crawled up her arms. When she closed her eyes she could almost glimpse this terrible image: George, so identical and so different from his brother, with tears on his freckled face kneeling on the floor in front of a full-length mirror broken into pieces, with the pieces around him dirty with the red blood that dripped from the cuts on his hands, and huge sobs breaking out of his throat. How could George bear to look at his own reflection, if he would see Fred in his place? _You are so stupid and selfish, Potter. Did you even think about George? Did you think about his pain, and about Molly and Arthur who lost a child when they should never have had it? You only thought about yourself._

"Go to him." Said the black-haired girl looking at her lover's translucent face in the dimly lit room.

_"You need me here."_

"He needs you too."

 _"There is nothing I can do for him, I cannot comfort him."_ Fred replied with a pain in his voice.

Thea smiled at him miserably, rising from the bed and going to open the window, looking at the darkness of the night and the thousands of stars that dotted the sky. "Being there is enough."

_"Are you sure?"_

"Yes, you can go."

_"Thea..."_

“Go, Fred. I already said it. It's all right."

She did not receive an answer again, and when she glanced he saw that Fred was no longer there. With a sigh, she went back to watching the stars trying to identify the ones she knew so well... But where was Ursa Major? Where was Ursa Minor? Where was Sirius? She couldn't find them anywhere. It was a different world, the stars and constellations would also have to be different, she supposed.

She stayed at the window until the sky turned from black to gray, and shades of pink, red and orange kissed the world as it dawned. Without further ado, knowing that sooner or later someone was going to call her, she rummaged in her bag for something to wear. She already had in her hands a green velvet dress with silver embroidery, when she remembered that there was no way to explain having that dress in her possession. After all, the people of Winterfell had seen her arrive with her small purse and sword, and nothing more. She would have to do something about it. She had in mind to wear the one that Lady Stark had loaned her when there was a frantic knock on the door, albeit as quietly as possible.

"Who is it?" She asked.

She received no vocal response, just a few more hurried touches to the wood. She narrowed her green eyes suspiciously, dropped her dress, and took one of the wands in the direction of the noise. Prepared, she reached out and turned the key to unlock the door. She was on her way to turn the knob when it turned on its own, the door burst open and a figure hurried in, white rustling, leaning against the dark wood after locking it again.

Seeing who it was, Thea hid her wand up her sleeve watching happily.

"Well, hello." She greeted smiling.

Arya looked at her in embarrassment with her hair slightly disheveled, her face flushed and breathless as if she had been running, and still dressed in her white nightshirt. The robes were loose on her body giving the impression that the girl was even more tiny. "Mmm ... Good morning."

“Good morning, what are you doing here? And for more still dressed like that? ”

"I..." Arya seemed to think of something to say when she scanned the room carefully, as if looking for something.

"Does anyone know you are here?"

"Of course they do." The girl replied, smiling as innocently as possible. The older woman was not to be believed.

Amalthea raised her left eyebrow with a sly look on her face, where the tear marks had long since disappeared. "You escaped, didn't you?"

The little girl tried to lie for a moment, looked at her feet and sideways making excuses, but seeing Thea's smile and seeing that she had been caught, she resigned herself to shrug until they almost touched her ears, and confessed: “Yes, I got up earlier before they woke me up, and snuck out of the room. Since then I came here tiptoe, but around the corner I heard voices and decided to run before they caught me.”

Amalthea tried to contain her laughter but failed, and laughed softly for a few moments. She encouraged the girl to venture into the room while standing to watch her near the brown armchair. Arya inspected everything curiously, but her gaze always ended up on the table in the corner, where several things rested on top of the old wood. Seeing this, the woman smiled again, and waited. She didn't have to wait long.

"Can I see it?" Arya questioned suddenly. "You said I could but you didn't say when, so I decided." Her little voice was a mixture of insecurity and determination.

“I already see that you have decided. Am I not going to hear rebukes at your expense, or am I? I don't need any problems, I am forever grateful to your father, but I don't think he would be pleased to know that you were misbehaving because of me.”

Arya blushed as if that possibility had only just crossed her mind. "I have no intention of causing you any problems. If anyone asks me I will tell them the truth, that it was my idea.”

“I know, girl. I'm playing with you, don't worry. 

They were silent for a while, watching each other. Arya looked somewhat hesitant slowly approaching the table. When she was a few inches away, she stopped in her seat, seeing the sword's scabbard extended in front of her. "I really can?"

Amalthea joined the girl. “I will show you. It's very sharp, I don't want you to get hurt.”

She saw on her face that she wanted to refute and that is exactly what she did: "I will not be hurt, I am not a stupid little girl."

“It is not just stupid girls who spill blood on swords. Older and wiser men than you have already done it.” Thea pursed her lips, dissatisfied with the young girl’'s response. "Or either you let me show you the sword on my terms, or I won't show you at all."

With that Arya fell silent and nodded understandingly. Thea raised the sword and drew it with a yawn. She was extremely tired, that dream and the conversation with Fred had upset her, and as much as she wanted to go back to bed, she knew she would not fall asleep again. Arya gasped as she watched the blade shine in the cold morning light.

“Oh, it's so beautiful. Can I hold it?” Said the girl holding out a hand, intending to touch the metal. The older woman quickly raised the sword out of reach.

"I dont know." Thea bit her lip thoughtfully. She was sure that if Arya's parents found out that their daughter was playing with sharp blades, they would not be satisfied. But surely nothing bad would happen, the girl would only hold the sword for a second... "Okay, but be careful."

Arya's face shone with happiness. Cautiously Thea lowered the object to her level, Arya wrapped her small left hand - since she was left-handed - around the half-moon fist, and then to her amazement, her arm fell under the weight of _Soteira_. The silver blade hit the ground with a crash so loud that it spiked their spines.

Shocked, they both looked at each other with wide eyes and open mouths. They were silent, listening for sound and movement outside the door, but nothing came. Their laughter burst out abruptly when Arya tried to lift the sword now with both hands, but the blade was only eight centimeters from the stone floor.

"Well," Thea began through the little wolf's giggles and gasps of effort. "It looks like you're still not strong enough."

"This is not fair, you managed to hold it as if it were the easiest and lightest thing in the world." Arya complained at last giving up and passing the powerful sword to Thea, who safely sheathed it again, and put it back in its place.

“One day you will make it, don't worry. I'm older and stronger than you, so it's normal for me to be easier. ” Seeing Arya's frustrated face, Thea bent slightly and whispered. “And besides, _Soteira_ is useful and loyal only to a Peverell. You know that it's magic? No one else will be able to wield it perfectly. ”

Arya remained quiet for a moment, hesitatingly biting the inside of her cheek. Finally, she narrowed her eyes and replied: “No, it is not, magic no longer exists. Don't try to trick me just to make me happy. I'm not stupid, I know how the world works.” And she passed abruptly past Amalthea, who was watching her with amusement and went to sit on the unmade bed on top of the sheets and furs overturned by a turbulent sleep, in the exact place where Fred's ghost had sat hours ago.

 _Oh Arya, if you knew how wrong you are_ , the Peverell heiress thought, feeling the weight of her wand still hidden in the sleeve of her nightshirt. She watched as Arya fell backward onto the bed, lying with her arms and legs extended as if she were a starfish.

"I'm bored." Commented the little girl.

“I imagine you are, there is not much to do in my room. However, it must be time to breakfast, shouldn't you be back before they find out you ran away?”

"I suppose I should but I don't want to go, this morning we will have a dance class." Arya blew out an irritated breath. "I hate dancing, Septa Mordane says that I am clumsy and that I seem to have two left feet and not swan feet like the others."

Thea narrowed her eyes. She had been at Winterfell only a few days ago, but she had already seen firsthand the favoritism that this old religious woman had towards Sansa and her friends. "Does Septa Mordane have anything good to say about you?"

"Not really." Confessed Arya. “I don't think anyone has anything good to say about me, well maybe my father, Jon, Robb, Bran and baby Rickon. The others call me Arya Horseface, you know? Sansa and her silly friends.”

Thea's heart ached with those words: "It's certainly not how you think. Have you talked to your parents about it?"

"I tried to tell my mother but she didn't want to hear me."

Amalthea was suddenly furious when she heard the sad tone that the girl's voice had acquired. She opened her mouth to speak, when she heard the door handle turn. Someone was making an attempt to open it. Arya stood up, startled, looking with wide eyes. "What now? Who is it?" She asked in a whisper.

Thea motioned her to remain silent and went towards the door. "My Lady, are you awake?" She heard someone ask and recognized the voice immediately. It was Alyssa, the maid who had helped her the day before. "I was sent to help you prepare, I have a new dress for you with me."

"Only a moment." Said the woman looking at Arya who was still panicking. "Hide yourself."

"She is going to tell my mother."

"No, she is not. Hide under the bed and when she leaves you go back to your room as soon as possible. Now hide, go. I can't keep her waiting.”

Arya suddenly threw herself under the bed, and there she was quietly hidden in her little corner. Seeing this, Thea opened the door gently allowing Alyssa to enter, who brought with her a green and silver wool dress in her hands. The maid looked around the room for a moment but was quick to rest her dress on the bed and turn to Thea.

"Did you have a good night, my Lady?"

"Yes I did, and you?"

"I had a wonderful night, thank you for asking."

Amalthea wanted to tell the brown-eyed woman that she would not need her help that morning, but Alyssa was already encouraging her to take off her evening clothes. She would have to get dressed quickly and comb even faster so that Arya didn't have to wait too long. And that was exactly what she did in the middle of small conversations while putting on the clothes that served her as a glove and Alyssa braided her hair in the traditional Northern style.

When Thea was finished, she was quick to assure the woman that she would not need her to accompany her to the Great Hall, for she had already memorized the path. Alyssa looked reluctant, but at last, she accepted Amalthea's decision and left after wishing her a good breakfast and the rest of a good day.

After hearing the click of the door closing, Arya’s head peeked out of the bed and her body quickly followed. She got up, shaking off the dust that stained her immaculate white clothes. "I thought she would never leave."

“Me too, you're lucky that she didn't hear us. I lied to her and said that I already knew the way, but you will have to be quick to go back to your room and get ready for the day, in order to accompany me to the Great Hall.”

The girl nodded understandingly. "I won't be long, I'll be back in a minute." She opened the door carefully and, seeing the clear path, began to flee at the sound of Thea's laughter.

Before Arya’s return, Kreacher joined Thea in the tranquility of her room, now protected by a silencing spell, safe from prying ears.

"We will have to do something about our assets." Thea commented when she finished casting the spell. “If I intend to pretend to be a wealthy lady, I cannot continue to be a beggar. Lady Catelyn has already lent me two of her dresses, I must have mine. We told them that we had our valuables stored in a safe place... well, it's time to pick them up.”

The old man understood perfectly, and so they made plans until Arya returned (luckily no one had missed her. She laid in bed and pretended to sleep when they went to call her to prepare for the day). Arya was excited and chattered the whole way.

Then, while they were eating in the midst of conversations, and enjoying boiled eggs and fried bread, accompanied by grilled ham and a bowl of blackberries, Thea informed Lord Stark of her intentions and as grateful as they were to his kindness and charity, they could not continue to abuse his goodwill. Eddard was quick to make it known that it wasn't abuse but that he understood her decision, and that he imagined that they would feel better about having their own things.

"Lord Kadeem will have an escort of men who will accompany him on his journey." The Lord of Winterfell offered, after hearing her words.

“It will not be necessary, Lord Stark, although I am very grateful. It will be a quick trip and I have no intention of taking more than four days, at the latest five. ” Kadeem said, respectfully. "I implore you to take care only of my Lady."

"Oh, do not worry, sir." Sansa said in a timid voice like a bird. "I will keep Lady Peverell company if you please."

"Of course Lady Sansa, thank you very much." Thea smiled.

"She doesn't want to be with a bore like you!" With her mouth full of food, Arya screamed. "I will keep her company." She was quickly rebuked by her older sister and parents, while the others laughed quietly.

Before Kadeem left they met again, this time in the Godswood.

"Here you have, Mistress." He said. Not knowing how the man had been able to get his hands on three of the Westeros coins: a gold dragon, a silver stag, and a copper star.

Thea was quick to cast a duplicating spell (Geminio) several times, ending up with five hundred times that amount, or even more. Some she kept it with them, but most of it was safely inside the magic purse that she handed to the man. She transfigured a fallen branch from a tree into a few large chests that were rapidly shrinking and shrinking even more until they were the size of simple children's toys.

"Return the original coins to their owners." Said the young woman, seeing Kadeem put the chests in her purse too.

The truth is that Kadeem would not really leave, since they had no material goods stored anywhere except there, but the others did not know that. Then they would have to pretend. Lord Stark had provided a cart and two horses for Kadeem to use, and in fact, the man would use them to leave Winterfell until he was out of sight of curious eyes, and later to return. Far away, he would hide the animals in the forest and could return to his room from time to time, and stay there for a few hours resting in secret, and would stop by the hideout again to make sure the horses were healthy and had food. When the time was right, he would take the chests out of the purse, and with them, at their normal size he would fill them with coins and jewelry, clothes, and everything of value, and then he just had to go back to Winterfell, without ever having really left. It was at times like that that Amalthea thanked the Goddess for her magic.

In the courtyard, Thea said goodbye to Kreacher and wished him a safe journey accompanied by the Stark family. Together they watched him walk away, until he grew smaller and smaller until he disappeared on the horizon, and each went to their tasks. The Peverell heiress remained, however, lost in thought.

She was aware that she needed more knowledge about Westeros. The little that Harlan's ghost had shared with her was not enough. That continent was rooted in years and years of history, battles, and events and now Amalthea had to know as much as possible. The best way to do this would be through books, so she went to the nearest Stark she could find. That turned out to be Jon Snow, Lord Stark's bastard.

"Jon!" She called out to him, quickly approaching the boy who seemed to be trying to head to the training yard. He stopped the moment he heard his name being called, and waited for Thea to reach him with a confused look on his face.

"My Lady." He greeted her with a question hidden in his voice.

"Thank you for waiting."

Jon's cheeks were dyed red. "How can I help you?"

"You have a library here, right?"

"In fact, we do, yes."

"How wonderful!" Thea's smile was huge, she was absolutely delighted with that information. "Can you show me?"

Jom shifted from foot to foot and his lips pursed when he said timidly, “My Lady, I… I don't think it's appropriate for you to be in my presence. I can show you the way or ask someone to accompany you.”

"Well, why not?"

"It is not appropriate for a lady of your status to be close to a bastard." He said as coldly as possible. However, Thea was able to detect the sadness in his voice.

“From where I am a baby born out of wedlock is not considered a bastard, is just an innocent child, and does not carry the brunt of their parents' alleged mistakes. I want you to join me, Jon Snow.”

Thea saw that Jon was still undecided, looking around as if he were trying to make sure he wasn't being watched. Thea felt immense pity for him. How was it his fault that he was born? Why did the supposed bastards have to be the ones who carried the hatred of society, when they themselves had no choice?

“I don't care what others think. I would be immensely grateful if you could accompany me.”

Finally, he agreed, albeit reluctantly. He seemed to think he was going to be in trouble... and maybe that was true. Amalthea remembered the icy look Lady Stark gave her stepson the first day she met them.

Jon quickly took her to a tall round tower, which had stone stairs carved out of it. The moment Thea entered, she had to stop for a second. She felt like Beauty in "Beauty and the Beast" (not that Jon was a monster, in fact, he was incredibly handsome), the moment she is introduced to the mountains and mountains of books inside the castle where she was a prisoner.

There were hundreds of books stacked on several shelves, the air inside was hot and muggy which was a relief compared to the cold air in the North. There was a fireplace away from the books to avoid the risk of fire - every corner and room in Winterfell seemed to have fireplaces - a table and armchairs.

Hermione would pass out if she were here, Thea thought, examining the titles of the books as her finger stroked the spines.

Jon cleared his throat, breaking Amalthea's charm. "Do you need anything more, my Lady?"

"Oh, I beg your pardon." Thea was embarrassed for a moment, as she focused her gaze again on the boy with hair as black as her own. “I am sorry to have interrupted your chores but I am immensely grateful to you for your help. I don't want to tie you up anymore.” She wanted to get to know him a little better, but she knew that Jon was still hesitant.

“It was a pleasure to help you. If you need anything more, I am at your service.”

"Thank you, Jon."

He left her in the silence of the library tower, surrounded by books and dust. Thea picked up a book that seemed interesting to her, sat down in one of the armchairs and opened it, immediately losing herself in the words. 


	11. Chapter IX

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey guys, long time no see xD Firstly I have to thank you for all the kudos and comments that you left on my story. I know that many may think that this story is slow and even boring, and I apologize for that but this is the best I can do. I don't like reading stories where things happen very quickly like they meet, it's love at first sight and they get married and live happily ever after, so this is something that will NOT happen in my story. This is going to be a slow-burn, Amalthea just arrived in Winterfell a few days ago and just met the Starks so that's why I want to focus on the characters' interactions as they get to know each other, and the story unfolds.
> 
> If anyone has any suggestions/ideas of what they think it would be cool to happen in Solivagant, please tell me! I would really appreciate it since I'm kinda out of ideas.  
> I made a discord server dedicated to this story where we can talk and interact, and share ideas about this story and talk about the world of ASOIAF and HP... If you would be interested in joining, please let me know and I will send you the link.
> 
> Also, today is my birthday (09/02) so be nice with your comments lmao... Anyway, I hope you like the chapter.

The moon shone high in the sky outside, the room was warm and Catelyn sighed in contentment in the arms of her lord husband, who kissed the top of her head and stroked her fire-like hair. Life was good and she was so, so happy. She had a husband that she loved deeply and beautiful children that she loved even more.

 _Maybe we will have one more, I miss a baby in my arms to love and care for_ , she thought, _maybe a boy with dark hair and grey Stark eyes. Of all our children, only Arya looks more like Ned._

She still remembered when Robb was born, screaming when he came into the world with his little lungs, with very little red hair and the Tully blue eyes... That was something that at first caused her great concern. But her husband loved his son anyway despite not having the Stark colors, just like the rest of the children. Life had been treacherous in the beginning: Ned was not the one she had first been promised, but his brother instead. But Brandon had been dead and buried for a long time, and the past was not to be broached. Catelyn had learned to love Eddard over time and that was all that mattered.

However, there was something that bothered her at the moment and she was not ashamed or afraid to talk about it (there were two in fact, but she didn't want to remember that the boy existed): "I don't like her, Ned." She said simply, having the notion that her husband would know who she was referring to.

The husband made an inquisitive sound in his throat, a low and deep sound that she loved, and hugged her even closer, bringing her to him. "What do you have against her?" He wanted to know.

Catelyn wrinkled her nose as she chose her words. "The disagreement she had with Theon and the things she said in front of our children did not please me, to begin with."

“Only the elders understood the meaning of her words. In addition, Theon was out of line and has already been scolded.”

"Still, I don't want her here."

"She will stay, Cat." Ned's voice had an edge of purpose. Catelyn despised how this conversation was becoming so similar to others that they had before about the bastard.

"But why?" The woman wanted to know. "Do you really trust her? Don't you think it is suspicious that she appears now, after years and years that so many hooligans tried to get hold of her landlord and Moat Cailin?

“So far she has given me no reason to be suspicious of her. She has physical similarities to Harlan, and even better, she has the real Peverell's Valyrian sword.” Said her beloved.

"Oh Ned, I don't know..." She sighed thoughtfully. Her husband was so smart and honorable, but he trusted too much. Maybe she was being paranoid, but still... " Trusting on the basis of a sword... We don't know anything about her and her companion."

"We know what they told us."

"Is that enough?"

"It has to be." Ned said.

"But why?"

"If she really is who she says she is, and if I send her away... how do think the other houses will react after seeing the Lord of Winterfell despise an ally house and family friend? Besides, it's the honorable thing to do.

Catelyn frowned, expressing what she thought. "You trust too much."

“Maybe, but Cat, I saw the pain in her eyes when she told me her story, I felt the grief in her voice, all of her was saddened and above all truthful." Confided Eddard kissing Catelyn’s perfumed hair again. Ned had already repeated everything that had been revealed by the woman with the greatest precision, and a part of Catelyn couldn’t help but pity the young woman despite the other part, the one who suspected her, being bigger. “Our children seem to like her. Try to get to know her and maybe you'll like her too. ”

"Yes, I think that is what I will do." It was time to talk to Amalthea Peverell for a while and try to find out if her intentions were pure and harmless.

* * *

In the time that Amalthea wasn’t in the library tower she was closed in her room. She had moved the chair close to the window, and there she was reading one of the books she may or may not have stolen for a while.

When she slept, it was very little. Most of a day and night was spent reading as fast as she could, wanting to devour all the information that was possible. She read about Aegon I and his sister-wives, Visenya and Rhaenys, who three centuries ago had conquered Westeros each on the back of their own dragon. She read about the kings who succeeded him, Aenys, Maegor, Jaehaerys and Viserys, and so many others. Thea was now a quick reader and knew that Hermione would be very proud of her.

The history of the Targaryen family was immensely interesting, their affinity for fire-breathing dragons was even more curious... despite having a strange addiction to incestuous relationships.

So what was her surprise to discover that the current ruler was not a Targaryen, but someone named Robert Baratheon. Upon arriving in Westeros Thea knew the basics about the main families through Harlan, Baratheon was one of them but she was extremely surprised to read about the defeat of the dragon family. From what she perceived the noble houses and even the people had been having mixed feelings towards the Targaryen dynasty. There were good and bad rulers, just like everything else in the world, and the last king of Westeros was bad enough to create discord, distrust and fear... fear above all.

King Aerys II's reign began peacefully, it could be said, and it looked very promising. Aerys wanted to be the greatest king that ever existed, wanted to be known as the _Wise_ or the _Great_ , and seemed determined to make that happen... Except that it never really came to concretize. Despite being young and charismatic, despite having already secured his reign with an heir, his son Rhaegar - this one being born in a huge tragedy that resulted in the death of Aerys' grandfather and so many others - there was something wrong with him and this came to be seen in the years that followed.

Some say that Aerys was always like that, others that it was a set of years full of paranoia due to the constant mentions that Tywin Lannister (his Hand) was the true king, to the multiple abortions and stillbirths that his sister-wife suffered, and to the time spent in captivity in Duskendale. But the truth was that Aerys was now something darker, unrecognizable and delusional. The king was more monster than human with long dirty hair, yellow teeth, long nails like claws and crazy eyes. Gone was the one who wished to be Aerys the Wise and gave way to Aerys the Mad King, the one who laughed at the heat of the fire and practically fed himself with the smell of burnt flesh.

The people of Westeros lived in constant fear and could not hardly wait for the day when the Crown Prince came to the throne after Aerys. They prayed in secret and pleaded to the gods for a better ruler. But it was then that Rhaegar did something that no one would ever expect... he was good and kind, a lover of books and music, just and honorable... But even though all of this the Silver Prince abandoned his wife, Elia Martell of Dorne and the two children she had given him, and kidnapped Lyanna Stark of Winterfell.

And it was from there that the Targaryen house was lost and dethroned.

Thea closed the book carefully, the pages were already a little old and yellowed, and felt the roughness of the cover with her fingertips. With a sigh she placed the book on the arm of the chair by the window and looked out at the world. The sound of wood hitting wood caught her attention, and then Thea turned her gaze in the direction of the sound. It was Robb and Jon who were training under the admired gaze of young Bran and baby Rickon. Focused on her reading, the woman had not even noticed that they were there, but apparently they must have been in their training for a long time, as they were already glistening with sweat.

Now that she thought about it, Thea hadn't seen or interacted with the two boys of her age in the past few days except for meals, but then all her attention was on the younger Starks (who practically fought for her), and the rest of her time was busy with reading.

“Lady Amalthea! Thea.” Curiously she got up and went even closer to the window. The screams of her name came from Bran who was jumping in his place with his younger brother at his side, trying to get the attention of the young woman he had spotted.

With that noise Robb's head turned so quickly that it probably must have hurt, and he looked in the direction Bran was pointing, seeing her leaning on the edge of the window, her elbows on the stone, the pale skin of her face to her throat looking like it glowed like pearls and with her black hair spread in the icy north wind.

"Hello boys!" She had said aloud, smiling in a friendly and genuine way.

And the next thing Robb knew was that he was no longer looking at the woman but at the clear sky instead, his hand that previously held the training sword was now unoccupied and buried in the mud - all of him was covered in mud, actually - and all the air had escaped from his lungs. With a shudder knowing very well what had happened, after all the pain in his back and laughter did not deceive him, Robb closed his eyes feeling himself dying inside. _Gods, bury me, kill me, get me out of here_ , he thought mortified as his brothers laughed so hard they couldn't even speak. The worst part was hearing the female laughter come joining them.

Finally, the heir of Winterfell opened his eyes just to see Jon's pale hand extended to help him get up, and the provocative smile on his bastard brother's face. "Distracted by a pretty face, Stark?" And to his shame, as much as the redhead wanted to deny he did not succeed, because the truth is that in the few seconds that his gaze was fixed on the figure of Amalthea at the window, Jon continued his training and Robb, oblivious, was not able to avoid his blow and ended up lying on the floor.

"Shut up." Countered Robb with his cheeks on fire, but even so he let his brother help him get back up with all the dignity he was able to muster (which was not much, he well knew).

With a cherry-red face Robb watched Bran and Rickon practically fall on top of each other with laughter, choking on the air each time they tried to stop, but his withering look only made them laugh even more. Despite everything, the older boy can't help but smile.

"You have something on your face." Jon commented, leaning against one of the wooden posts, amused.

"What?" He asked, confused.

"Just a little bit of mud, nothing much."

Hurriedly Robb tried to wipe his face with the clean part of his shirt, peeking through the copper hair falling, wiping off all the mud and sweat, seeing Amalthea still at the window trying to hide her huge smile with her hands. She, seeing his look, nodded cheerfully to which Robb shyly returned the gesture. The sound of her beautiful female laugh sounded, and the Stark boy couldn't help but laugh at his own situation by taking the fallen wooden sword and attacking Jon who fumbled a little, but managed to dodge in time.

In the bedroom, still at the window, Thea kept smiling in amusement watching the boys for a little while until a knock on the door interrupted her.

Frowning but still with a hint of a smile on her lips, Thea opened the door to see a quiet waitress waiting for her.

"May I help you?" Questioned the young witch, observing the severe features of the woman in front of her.

With a stiff posture and pursed lips in disdain the woman of about forty years old, if the wrinkles on her face and the silver strands were a clue, examined Thea upside down and answered. "Lady Stark invited you to have tea with her, Lady Peverell."

"Oh," exclaimed Thea in surprise. She had promised Sansa and Arya that she would join them in their embroidery class that afternoon, so Catelyn's invitation was unexpected. "Now?"

The older woman snapped her lips. "The sooner the better, Lady Stark is not a person to be kept waiting."

Amalthea was already looking at her book and the window with a longing sigh before being abruptly interrupted.

"Are you coming? Lady Catelyn awaits you in her solar. ”And without waiting for an answer, the woman turned on her heel and began to advance down the corridor.

Thea narrowed her eyes but closed the door, carefully and discreetly cast a spell that would keep her room safe and forbidden, and then she followed the woman in the plain white dress. They walked in silence, a servant at the front, stiff and striding, and Thea at the back, hands folded in front of her trying to maintain an elegant and smooth posture.

“Can you hurry up? There are those who have things to do, today if possible." Ah, how the young witch had to swallow the frustrated growl. Finally, after a suffocating silence, the maid stopped in front of a door. "Here we are."

The woman was already turning to go when Thea stopped her with a question. "What is your name?"

"Erin." The other replied with a face that was the last thing she wanted to do.

"Erin..." Amalthea tried the word, hissing it slowly and languidly so that it resembled a snake. With narrowed eyes and a dangerous smile, she said then. "I will remember that." _You can be sure of that_.

And without further ado, leaving Erin pale for some reason (perhaps because she realized the way she treated her lady's guest, or because even though she was unable to see it, she was able to feel something strange and almost dangerous around her), Thea knocked on the door and was greeted by the warmth of the room. Her feet stepped on the brown skin of a bear lying on the floor near the door. Catelyn was already waiting for her sitting in an armchair and embroidering something carefully. She smiled slightly when she saw Thea and waved to the chair opposite her, in a gesture full of elegance.

“Ah Lady Amalthea, I am so very happy that you accepted my invitation. Please, have a seat.” The Potter heiress was quick to comply with her request, sitting down and looking around admiring the room.

It was a rather small and rectangular room with its two armchairs and the small round table next to the fireplace that was opposite to the entrance. It was well lit due to the candles in the iron candlesticks, and the natural light that came in through the glass windows. It was cozy and in its own way reminded her of Hogwarts.

Without wasting time Catelyn abandoned her embroidery that the young witch noticed that it was a trout in shades of red and blue, took the teapot and started pouring the tea, first filling Thea's cup and then her own. "I hope you like chamomile. A sugar cube or two?"

"Just one, please. I appreciate your invitation, my Lady."

"It was a pleasure, it was time to get to know each other better, don't you agree?"

"In fact."

Catelyn kept stirring the tea with her spoon watching Thea do the same, while examining the girl. "Your dress is very beautiful." It was a soft and sincere compliment, but Thea knew its true meaning: Catelyn wanted to know where she got it, since she hadn't lent it to her.

"I'm glad you found that. Luckily I had a few coins left with me that was enough to buy this dress and a few more to a seamstress in Winter Town, this shade of dark blue is charming and the wool is so soft and warm." Thea said telling the truth. The money she had now with her was enough to buy some dresses on the days Kreacher was away. The poor old seamstress had been delighted to be able to dress the Lady Peverell, and fortunately the dresses she had were all suited to her figure, and those that weren't were quickly adjusted. "However, I thank you for all those who you were kind enough to lend me."

"It was a pleasure." Catelyn said once more.

Thea lifted the cup to her lips and blew lightly to cool the tea destroying the clouds of smoke that spiraled upward, and feeling Catelyn's heavy gaze on her. In a strange way, the young witch was having that same feeling that she always felt when she was under Snape's rigorous gaze, that feeling that the other person wanted to find out everything about her, that they wanted to invade her mind to investigate her past and unravel all her secrets. Not that the black-haired girl was going to let that happen, as nervous as she might have been, she had learned that it was best to control what she really felt. Sipping slowly the tea tasting the sweetness of chamomile, Amalthea waited for the Stark family matriarch to decide to break the silence. She didn’t have to wait that long.

"How are you?"

"Good, my Lady."

Catelyn hummed sipping her tea elegantly. "It must be difficult to be in a new continent and in a place that you have never known before, far from home, especially now with the absence of Kadeem."

“I will not lie, Lady Stark, I thought it would be harder. I miss what I left, but this is what I chose for myself.” Thea confessed honestly.

This seemed to surprise the redhead, it was certainly not that answer she thought she would receive. "Oh, I thought... well, I'm not sure what I thought." Maybe she expected tears and sobs, but that was over for now. "I hope you haven't had any problems here at Winterfell."

"It has been a great experience and people are very receptive, which I’m thankful for."

Catelyn then put the empty cup down, picking up the teapot again and refilling it and doing the same with the cup Amalthea had in her hands. "Lady Peverell, I am sorry if he offended you, but please, I have to ask you not to repeat the behavior you had towards Theon, especially in the presence of my children."

 _And there it is_ , Thea thought to herself, almost letting a little smile show when she finally realized the older woman's intention. “Lady Catelyn, I will not say that I regret my words because that would be a lie. Perhaps it was inappropriate on my part, but I would have betrayed myself if I hadn't said what I said.”

“My Arya is already wild enough, I don't want her with ideas that are not suitable for her gender.” Explained Catelyn. “I want to protect my sons and above all my daughters. There are things they don't need to know, especially as unfortunate as some of the world’s realities are.”

_You prefer to live in ignorance and strange to the truth..._

“I don't deny that in any way, I loved meeting your family and I do not want to get involved in matters that don't belong to me. Forgive me." Thea said with a bit of bitterness in her heart. She wanted to question that noble lady who seemed disgusted by Thea's past actions when hers were no better. If she loved her children so much why didn't she listen to them? Sansa's friends called her sister Horse Face and neither of them did anything about it, leaving little Arya feeling that she was alone even though she was surrounded by so many people.

Now that the cards were on the table, Catelyn would not hide what she really wanted to say or discuss. She put the cup down for good and Thea did the same trying to figure out what the tea leaves at the bottom might mean,but all she saw was a blur of soaked leaves and nothing more.

“I love my husband, my marriage to Ned was arranged and we can say that it was immensely unexpected but I have learned to love him over the time. It was difficult at first, leaving my family and leaving my home behind was terrifying, and coming to live in this cold and icy land where I didn't know anyone and nobody knew me, was even more. We were in times of war but I knew my duty and that duty was to be a good wife, a good lady and a good mother." The other explained and Thea listened carefully, wondering where Catelyn was going with this. "I remember as if it were yesterday the first time I held Robb when he was born, he was small and almost bald but he already had a little red hair, and his beautiful face was red from crying. But when I held him in my arms... when I held him in my arms, I stopped loving myself and started loving him entirely."

There was a silence.

And it was then that the woman looked at her coldly and harshly: "I love my children. There is nothing I would not do for them. I live and breathe for them, I would give my life and my soul to keep them alive, safe and happy. No one will ever love their children the way I love mine." Exclaimed Catelyn. "I know them like the back of my hand, and it is precisely because I know them so well that we are having this conversation."

"Forgive me but I'm not sure I understand where you want to go with this." Amalthea countered almost as coldly as the Stark woman.

"You have been here for a little while but I know my Robb. He is a good boy, he is just and honorable like his father, and on the way to being a man made that all maidens wish one day to have. But he cannot resist a pretty face and you, Lady Amalthea, have an incredibly beautiful face that these days seems to have catched some interest." And how she had seen that, even her son had been charmed by that strange guest of them. Normally the matriarch wouldn’t mind, even she knew that Amalthea was beautiful and admiring the beauty of someone in the distance didn’t hurt anyone,Catelyn had been at her window waiting for a maid to bring the tea when she saw the way the bastard made her son fall after being distracted when Lady Peverell took his attention. "He is not engaged yet, is true but he knows his duty and-"

Amalthea thought it was best to end this situation quickly. "Lady Stark forgive me for interrupting you but let me tell you that I don’t think Robb is interested in me that way, he’s honored as you say and a charming man but he’s just being nice to me, as I am a guest in your house."

Catelyn hummed, her face showing that she didn't let herself believe."Are you interested in him then?"

Thea smiled. "He is handsome and friendly but I have only known him for a few days and I only see him as a possible friend.” And then to put an end to it she gave her some of the truth, even if it hurt. Even though remembering was suffocating and her heart felt like it was being squeezed in such a way that it would turn to dust. “I was engaged, Lady Stark."

That was enough to silence the woman.

"Oh." Exclaimed Catelyn after a while, surprised again. _Although I shouldn't be surprised. Beautiful, rich, with lands, with a noble name and in marrying age,_ she thought _._ "Can I... Can I ask what happened?"

"He died." Thea confessed with pain and hurt in her voice, and with suffering in her green eyes. "It wasn't arranged, I loved him and he loved me. I still love him. We have known each other since we were children, but unfortunately death doesn't spare anyone no matter how much they deserve it, not even my Frederick."

 _Like Brandon, and she is as old as I was when I lost him..._ And then Catelyn's icy heart took pity.

"What was he like?"

For a moment Thea did not respond, she couldn’t and she didn’t want, more specifically. Who was this woman to want to know more about her Fred? Who was Catelyn Stark to want to know about her love after practically intimidating her with that ridiculous idea that there was something more between Amalthea and her son? But she knew she had to say something, she _needed_ to say something. The Starks and Winterfell were important. But what would she say? _He had red hair and blue eyes, like your son now that I think about it, although they were different shades._

"He was handsome, tall and slim, and so kind and playful. And there was never a day that he wouldn't make me smile. I miss that... as much as I smile now it is not and will never be the same."

None of them knew what to say, especially Catelyn, who for the first time felt ashamed of her own actions. She knew her son, she had seen the delighted glow that her heir displayed when he thought that no one was watching him looking at Lady Peverell. And Cat had been so suspicious, so sure that this young woman in front of her might have ulterior motives to be there. But even that morning Ned had told her that there was no way to pretend as much pain as that which Amalthea's beautiful eyes hid, and Catelyn found herself agreeing with him.

She needed to apologize, it was the right thing to do. "I am so very sorry for my behavior, Lady Peverell, and I am even more sorry to touch on a subject that has caused you so much pain. It was not my intention to sound too harsh, but a mother has to know how to protect her children and today when I saw that Robb had let himself be distracted from his lessons, well... I imagined a scenario where he could have been seriously hurt, to begin with."

"I understand, my Lady, and I hold no grudge against you. But as I said, neither I nor Robb feel anything that should make you worried, all I want is to recover my home and live in peace." _But I'll be careful with you from now on_ , Thea thought to herself.

Putting this behind their backs the two continued the tea that afternoon and discussed trivial things, from embroidery to the children of Catelyn, and to the customs of North and South Westeros. When they finished and each one went on their way it was with mixed feelings and the mind working hard.

For Catelyn, her conversation with the young woman had alleviated most of her fears.

And for Thea that afternoon had left her with a bittersweet taste in her mouth, knowing that as much as the conversation had gone well she knew that not everything would be so easy and that she would have to be careful with what she did or said to try to avoid the enmity of those who could help her.

 _"So, that went well."_ Fred commented beside her, his translucent body shimmering in the pale light of the corridor, while Thea made her way back to her own room.

"I will have to be careful with her." Exclaimed the young girl softly, checking that no one was close enough to hear her speak 'alone'.

_"She looks like a suspicious woman to me."_

"Yes, and maybe too much." Amalthea opened the door, entered, and quickly locked it again. With an exasperated sigh, she ran a hand through her hair before sitting on the armchair overlooking the courtyard. “She is concerned about her family, and I perfectly understand that after all, I am a stranger in her home. But I feel that she will now be aware of everything I do. Do you think my story is credible?”

 _“Quite a lot, I think you'll be fine as long as you don't let yourself be shaken or if you give them reasons to be suspicious of you. How's Kreacher, by the way?”_ Fred asked calmly, watching her stressed figure. Most of the time he had been watching his family for the past few days, in the other world, after the conversation, he had had with Thea after her nightmare and now he needed to be updated a little.

Thea shrugged. “Alright I suppose, everything is going according to the plan. He found a very discreet place where he hid the horses, protected it with magic so no one can find him, and has already prepared things. He has kept the horses in perfect health and well-fed and hides in his room at times when he needs to sleep. Fortunately, no one has been in or out since he left, apart from me of course. He should probably come back tomorrow or the day after that.”

_"This is good, do what you have to do to ensure that your stay here is calm and that you have a happy life."_

The young witch smiled at him affectionately, with a sad gleam in her eyes. She might even be happy, but it wouldn't be the same, however, not without him with her... in bone and flesh with laughter and joy. 

"How's George doing?" She asked changing the subject.

_“He is improving, at least he’s better than a few days ago. They managed to get him out of the room and are trying to convince him to reopen the store that has been stopped since... Well, you know. The last time I saw them they were in the living room with Andromeda and Teddy.”_

"My- my little Teddy?" This caught Thea's attention even more.

 _"Yes. He's fine, he was the one who managed to make George laugh when he got neon yellow hair and orange eyes. Mom and Andromeda were talking about you, wondering if you would be okay and how much they miss you.”_ The redhead said softly, almost sorry to speak.

Guilt seemed to make her heart ten times heavier, and her stomach churned. She didn't want her friends, or rather her family, to worry but she knew it was something she couldn't change. She cared for them herself and there was not a single day that she did not think of them. _Oh, Teddy…_

"If there was a way to tell them that I'm fine..."

 _"There is not."_ Exclaimed Fred sadly. _"They will just... have to learn to live with it."_

They talked for a while longer until she was called to dinner. Dinner went well, though visibly tense between Thea and Catelyn, and the others couldn't help but notice it. Fortunately, no one commented, but when Robb looked at the young woman almost to make sure that she was alright, Amalthea just looked away.

* * *

The next morning was spent by Arya and Sansa in etiquette class, where the older sister seemed to be in her element, elegant and kind to Septa Mordane and her friend Jeyne, and where Arya could do nothing but sulk in a corner casting pleading looks at Thea as if asking her to get her out of there quickly.

However, a good part of the afternoon was spent in the library. _I'm becoming Hermione_ , she thought. _Ron would be disgusted if he could see me now._ It was at that moment, when she left the tower distracted by the information she had seen in one of the books, that she collided with a small body that ran in front of her. The book in her hand fell, and Thea had to gently grab one of the boy's arms to keep him from falling too.

"Rickon, are you alright?" She asked worriedly.

The boy with copper hair and bright eyes looked up breathlessly, with red cheeks from the race but with a big smile on his face so like his mother. "Sorry, I didn't want to run into you." He said timidly.

"It doesn't matter, didn't you hurt yourself?"

"I am alright." He assured her in his soft child's voice.

Thea looked at him for a moment, scrutinizing him from head to toe. When she was sure he was okay, she released him and picked up the fallen book, which she was quick to clean making sure there was no dirt on the cover or pages, and ensuring there was no damage. Finally, she smiled at Rickon, who looked excited and was jumping around. "Where are you going?"

"I'm trying to find Bran, he is hiding from me."

"Oh, are you playing?" She deduced.

"Yes." He said vibrantly. "Bran says that after I find him we will play come-into-my-castle, but I think it is just an excuse for not having to try to find me."

Thea laughed amusedly, understanding.

"Where are you going?" He asked curiously.

"To my room."

“Come and play with me, you can help me find him. If it takes too long, he might try to make me have to find him again.” He practically pleaded.

The young woman rose and lowered her shoulders, tilting her head as she thought. It would be nice and that would help pass the time faster. She had been closed for so long in that dusty library and surrounded by books that a lot of sun and fun would be most welcome.

"Of course, where should we look first?"

"Good!" Rickon practically screamed, taking Thea's free hand and dragging her with him. "We are going to the Godswood, we all know that Bran is always hiding there."

Due to all the enthusiasm and excitement of Rickon, who kept talking about any game they had played before, they arrived at a cast-iron gate that was already open, which indicated that someone had already been there. They were quickly swallowed up by the beautiful trees around them.

“Bran! I know you are here, I will find you wherever you are!”

They searched the bushes and behind a few trees that the boy insisted on looking.

"He must be close." Rickon said. "He knows he shouldn't go too far, mother and father would be worried."

"He must be-" Thea fell silent, bringing her index finger to her lips telling the Stark boy to make little noise, which he did quickly. The silence surrounded them, being broken only occasionally by the whistling wind or the song of one or another bird.

"What?" Rickon asked nervously. "I do not hear-"

But then there was what sounded like a branch breaking, hurried steps as if someone was running away and the sound of branches being pulled and leaves moving. They both exchanged glances, before smiling and moving towards the sound.

It came from the huge tree of white branches and red leaves. _Oh_ , Thea felt herself freezing inside, feeling a nervousness invade her body while watching that colossal tree, _I had forgotten._ And it was true. With everything that had happened, with Kadeem's absence and her search for information about Westeros, the thought of the unusual tree and those even stranger voices hadn't even crossed her mind. But now… The face stuck in the wood that was weeping sap seemed to follow her footsteps as she approached slowly.

"Bran, I know you are here!" Rickon shouted, running ahead of her excitedly and looking around. "I already got you, it's not worth hiding anymore." He walked here and there, searching his surroundings carefully. "Give up."

And while the wolf-boy was entertaining himself, Thea came closer and closer to the bone-white tree, her outstretched hand trembling slightly in anticipation. She stopped inches away and was about to touch the wood when she retracted, her hand stopping abruptly. Should she touch it? What if it happens again like the last time? Would she hear those same voices? What did they want?

Amalthea shook her head away from the thoughts and did exactly what she wanted.

She reached out to touch the beautiful white wood, following the path of red tears with her eyes. And then…

Nothing.

Nothing happened. And that left the young Potter witch with mixed feelings, which she didn't quite know how to explain. She was relieved but at the same time... there was a part of her that wanted to end that mystery, that uncertainty...

The leaves above moved slightly, and Thea's green eyes left the carved face that looked back at her to follow the sound. And there, in the middle of the red leaves, was a face that was not of white wood, but of a soft tone and of colored cheeks, of blue eyes and a head of thick brown hair.

"Oh!" She exclaimed in surprise.

Rickon, hearing this, was quick to join in and looking up too before letting out a cry of delight. "I knew it, I found you!"

And the face in the trees filled with frustration, before opening a big smile. "Took you too long." Brandon Stark said without further ado and carefully descended the tall branches until he was low enough to throw himself to the ground and fall to his feet. "You only found me because you had help."

"No, no." Growled the younger brother. "I already knew you were here."

"Yes, of course." Bran looked at him amused, before smiling at Amalthea, who was quick to return. "Well, since you found me, I think it's time for us to change the game."

"That is not fair!" Little Rickon snorted with indignation in his child's voice, and the small fists clenched tightly in an act of fury. "You just want to change the game because it was my turn to hide."

"No, it is not."

"Yes, it is!"

"It is not-!"

"Boys..." interrupted Thea, amused. "What game do you want to play, then?"

"I don't know." Confessed Bran, shrugging with a cute smile on his face. “Do you know how to climb? I can teach you.”

"No, not climbing!" Rickon was quick to interrupt his brother's ideas, sitting on the ground against the trunk of the tree, taking Amalthea's hand and pulling it down, indicating that she should sit beside him. "I'm tired, I want you to tell me a story."

"Oh!" Brandon exclaimed enthusiastically too, taking a seat across from his younger brother. “Do you know any new ones? Old Nan is the one who tells us many stories, but we've heard them all and she is always repeating the same ones.”

"A story?" The green-eyed girl questioned beside Rickon that was quick to sit on her lap, playing with her long black strands of hair. "What kind of story do you want?"

"Do you know any about knights?"

"Dire wolves!" Demanded Rickon. "Oh-oh, dragons!"

Thea thought for a while, wondering what it would be good to tell the two boys. "I do not think I know any about dire wolves, but I do know one or two about dragons."

Rickon practically jumped, almost pulling the young witch's hair out of contentment. "Yes, tell us!"

Amalthea looked at Bran questioningly, wanting to make sure the older boy agreed. Bran shrugged again, smiling and waving. "It is good enough for me. Is it about one of the Targaryen dragons?"

The Potter girl laughed. "No, it is not."

Rickon snuggled closer to her, hugging her and still playing with the mix of braids and loose locks that adorned her hair that day.

Clearing her throat while debating deeply how she was going to get on with this story, Thea started, somewhat hesitant as she formed the plot in her mind. "This story begins with a girl... A girl too small for her age, very normal and very simple. That girl had few friends, but the ones she had were real and wonderful, they adored her and she adored them. However, the girl was an orphan and had the misfortune to live with family members who hated her for some sad reason. Do you know what orphan means, Rickon?"

The boy waved sheepishly, "It is someone who has no mother or father." The child's smile was sweet, his cheeks were red with excitement, but his eyes seemed to be getting heavy with each passing second. The excitement of the game had passed, and drowsiness and tiredness were beginning to overwhelm him.

"Yes, exactly." Thea agreed, seeing the smile of satisfaction forming on Rickon's lips. "As her relatives hated her, they didn't really care about her or what happened to her. They hardly gave her food or attention, and when they did it was always for bad reasons and she had to survive with the little she had. But one day the king of that land decided to make a request of help to all the people... The greatest jewel of his royal treasure was gone, and the king offered a great reward to anyone who recovered it, but there was a problem, the jewel was a huge egg made of gold and the king discovered that it was hidden in a dragon's lair. Therefore, to recover it, it was necessary to face the beast."

Rickon's shocked sigh was huge, and his eyes widened when he listened intently.

"I am not afraid of any dragon!" Bran roared, getting up, picking up a small fallen branch, and swinging it as if it were a sword. It was a lovely sight in Thea's opinion, and the gesture elicited a delighted laugh from his younger brother who still had his hands buried in the woman's hair. "I would face the dragon myself."

"Oh, but this was not just any dragon..." Thea whispered slyly. "This was a mother dragon."

"What is the difference?" Bran asked curiously, sitting down again and nudging Rickon playfully with the branch he still had in his hand.

"Any dragon is highly aggressive, but the females are larger and the most ferocious of their kind, and are wild and protective. The golden egg had somehow fallen into her nest, it is not known how, and the dragon thinking that the egg was hers started to protect it as such."

The boys made a sound of understanding and continued to listen.

“The girl was hungry because she ate very little, she was cold because she slept in an old and shabby barn at her relatives' house, and she wore clothes so old and worn that she thought that at the slightest touch they would break apart. People from all over the kingdom got together and waited for their turn to face the dragon, from knights to farmers, innkeepers to gravediggers, beggars, and thieves, merchants, stable boys and jugglers, all kinds of people. The girl had no intention of doing so, she didn't think she was brave enough to try and she didn't want to die at all… But her stomach rumbled and it hurt so much, and every time she thought about what she could do with the reward, the idea seemed more appealing... So she decided to try too.

> The dragon's lair was inside a mountain, and all those who were brave enough to enter were quick to scream and cry out in fear, discouraged, and defeated. Everyone looked at the girl in disbelief, no one believed she would be able to win and there were many who told her to leave and return home as this was not a place for children. But she persisted, and finally, her own attempt came. Unlike the others she did not carry any object capable of injuring, she carried neither sword nor ax, nor spear or arrows, only a small shield to protect herself. She entered through the mountain mouth, crossed it to its depths until a ferocious roar was heard, so loud that everything around her trembled, and the walls shone in shades of red and orange. And there in the middle, wrapped in hot flames was the ferocious dragon, with sharp teeth huge as swords... Its scales were black, it had yellow eyes, bronze horns, and thorns of the same color along the length of its tail. When it saw her, it roared even louder almost making her ears bleed, and she just had time to hide behind a rock, raise her shield and protect herself from the flames. The sounds that the dragon made were horrifying and hideous and made the girl tremble with fear. But despite thinking that she was normal, the truth is that she was not..."

"What was her name?" Rickon interrupted quietly, which Thea thanked because her voice was starting to break from talking. She grunted and cleared her throat for a moment while she thought.

"Rickon!" Bran shouted, startling the other two. "The story was starting to get interesting, don't interrupt anymore."

"But I want to know what her name is!" Rickon replied, forgetting the sleepiness, and almost hurling himself at his brother with fury in his small body. Thea laughed, held him so he couldn't attack Bran, and sat him down next to her.

"It's alright…” She thought again, and finally chose one, the combination of two names so important to her, the combination of her mother's and father's name. Thea thought it was a good idea, since that story was about her and when she had to face the Hungarian Horntail in the first task of the Triwizard Tournament. It was based on the same story, just very modified and made more fantastical and childlike for the two Stark boys. “The girl's name was Lily-Jae. As I was saying, she was special because she had the ability to talk to snakes, and maybe that was really the reason that made her relatives hate her." _Because she was different, because she had magic_ , Thea thought to herself.

The surprised sounds that the boys made put an amused smile on her lips. Bran's head perked up by rising abruptly, his little eyes bulged, and the branch with which he poked his half-sleeping younger brother was forgotten.

Seeing that he was opening his mouth to ask a question, Amalthea paused and let him continue: "How is that possible?"

"How do you think dragons existed?" She asked with a smile. “How do you think Brandon the Builder built that huge ice Wall that is long and tall enough to divide a continent? Magic, of course.”

Bran narrowed his eyes. "But magic no longer exists, it disappeared along with the dragons."

“Magic is real, Bran Stark. It is everywhere from the trees around us and its leaves, from the smallest insect that many find insignificant to the largest animal you have ever seen. Magic is in fire and its flames, in the air, wind, water, and on earth. Magic is what gives us life and feeds us, and sometimes there are those who are born with it in their blood.”

"I do not understand. Everyone says it is not possible. ”

“Let me put it in other words… Do you believe in the gods? Do you believe in your heart that they are real and that they take care of you?”

"Yes."

"Why?"

He shrugged with a timid expression on his face. "I do not know."

"Come here." Bran confusedly got up and made a short walk until he was beside Thea, who had turned to the big white tree, watching the tearful face. She took the boy's hand when he sat beside her, and leaned it against the wood. "Do you feel this?"

The wind whistled and the leaves beat gently against each other, and the three watched them move in sync red as blood and dance with each other, feeling the snow-white wood under their fingers. "I am not sure what I should be feeling," Bran confessed.

"Life," Thea whispered to him, eyes closed, listening, and feeling. “You should feel the life that runs through the roots, the trunk, the branches and leaves, the life that runs through the red sap you see. You believe that the gods are real because you feel them in everything around you because they are the ones who give life to your world as you know it. And life is magic... ”

"I-" Bran hesitated, watching the older woman's expression of devotion. "I still don't understand."

This caused the young witch to open her eyes, interrupting herself, and moving away.

"I suppose not." She sighed and looked at the palm of her hand, seeing the mark of Hecate tattooed on the skin and the mark of Thanatos on her wrist, only visible to her eyes and covered with magic to keep it hidden from the view of others. _My gods are real_ , she thought, seeing herself lost in the watchful eye of the face carved in the tree and remembering the strange voices. _And these gods also seem to be._ "But you will understand one day."

It wouldn't hurt to say that to the child, Amalthea supposed. He would never believe, he would think it was just another story... Talking about magic reminded her of home, and her heart ached with longing. She leaned her back against the huge tree again, abandoning its watchful eye, with a Stark boy on either side doing the same still confused.

"Back to the story," Thea said, seeing that the moment had already been forgotten by the children. “Lily-Jae was special due to being able to talk to the snakes. This skill had never served her much, she used it so little that she sometimes thought she could have dreamed of the conversations she once had with a small garden snake, but that day it came in handy. Just as she understood what the snakes were saying, Lily-Jae was also able to understand the dragon-mother who shouted at outsiders to stay away from her babies or else they would be burned or eaten.

> Hearing this, the little girl still hidden behind the rock screamed, anxious, wanting the heat of the flames to stop "Please, no!", To which the surprised dragon-mother stopped and replied: "Do you speak the sacred language, little thief?"

The girl was stunned for a few moments, shocked beyond belief. Finally, she replied: "I didn't know I could, and I am not even here to steal because I am not a thief."

"Lies." The beast hissed, and Lily-Jae felt the stone floor shudder with each heavy step it took as she approached her hiding place. "You humans invade my nest with swords, spears, and crossbows, attack me, try to steal my eggs, and still say that you are not thieves. No one will take my babies away from me!"

"I promise, I'm not here to hurt you or steal your eggs. I do not have a weapon with me, just a small shield... Please listen to me."

There was a long silence and then the dragon-mother told the girl to reveal herself, which she did, coming out from behind the rock very slowly and without sudden movements so as not to do anything that could provoke an attack. The long neck moved, the dragon's head moved closer to the girl's small body and its huge spear-like teeth stayed close to her face while inhaling her scent. Lily-Jae was shaking so badly she didn't even know how she still had the shield in her hand or how she still stood up. After what seemed like years the dragon walked away and said, "Speak. Tell me what you want and why you are here."

> "Mighty dragon, I understand that you may be suspicious and that you just want to protect your eggs, but I repeat again that I have no intention of harming you or them. Look, in your nest is an egg that is not yours, I do not know how it got there, but I just want to get it back."

"Lies! Did you dare say you do not want my eggs when you just confessed that you want one? Did you dare try to trick me?"

"It is true, please see for yourself!"

The dragon looked at her suspiciously but did as she said. It approached the nest, touched its snout to the yellow eggs, and blew a breath of hot air making them glow in the pale light and the small shape of the baby dragons in formation was possible to see inside… In all except for one. The dragon-mother roared furiously at being tricked, blowing black smoke through its huge nostrils.

"How did this falsehood end up here? Who dares to put this with my babies?"

"I don't know, I just want to take it and nothing else."

"Take it, High Speaker, take it and disappear from my sight... You and the rest of the humans."

The dragon-mother watched as the girl approached the huge nest, carefully and delicately took the golden egg without even touching the real ones, and went away again.

"You already have what you want, now go and do not come back. If any human enters my den and tries to deceive me or harm my eggs, I will not contain myself and that human will die."

"I understand." And running, Lily-Jae got out of there.”

"What happened next?" Bran questioned fully invested in the story, even if he had interrupted it.

Rickon's small body gradually fell, heavy with sleep, until he lay down on the grassy ground and rested his head on Thea's lap, who instinctively was quick to play with his hair almost maternally, and for a few moments imagined that that could be Teddy.

"Well..." Thea returned to the story, looking at the blue sky visible through the red leaves. How long had they been there? An hour maybe? “Lily-Jae was quick to leave the cave and the sunlight shone on the treasure in her hands making all those who had been defeated and who waited for the winner to scream in shock and denial; the Egg was huge, golden and beautiful, the size of a normal dragon's egg and perhaps that was why it had been so easy to deceive the beast. There were comments of disbelief and envy, people gathered around her and tried to take the treasure out of her hands, but the girl was able to escape and head for the king's castle where she was quickly directed to him."

“What is it that the king did? What was the reward? And the dragon and its eggs? Were there dragon riders there too?” Bran practically skipped the spot beside her, asking his questions at an absurd speed.

"Lily-Jae handed over the egg and in return received an immeasurable amount of gold and an offer of land where she could go and live and finally get away from her terrible family members."

"Only that?" Disbelief and disappointment could be felt in the Stark boy's voice.

“Do you think it is a little thing? For a girl who had no way of dressing well or who sometimes had nothing to put on her stomach at the end of the day, that was everything.” Seeing Bran's slightly embarrassed expression, she decided to add something that was definitely not true, invented at the time, making the story even more fanciful than it already was. “The king ended up confessing. He was already old, without a wife or children or any other family member, and the whole point of that adventure was purely a test to find someone agile and courageous, someone, worthy of becoming his heir or heiress. And that is exactly what the girl has become. Lily-Jae was now happier, surrounded by friends and well-fed, on her way to one day becoming queen... and all thanks to a dragon and a golden egg.”

And so Thea had finished speaking, her voice slightly hoarse from the effort and in serious need of drinking water to relieve her dry throat. Bran looked at her with wide eyes in surprise, but definitely happier with the end of the story, which just put a loving smile on the pretty face of the young Potter, who was still playing with the soft hair of the younger boy now asleep in her lap.

The calm and comfortable silence was broken by a clap of hands, loud enough to scare a few birds that had been perched on the branches of nearby trees and that quickly took off in retreat. Amalthea jumped slightly in place, frightened, with an arm wrapped around Rickon's little body and her hand already moving to her wand, looking threateningly at the source of the sound.

"So this is where you all have been.” It was Robb who was watching them closely, leaning against a tree some distance away from them.

"Robb!" Bran ran up to his older brother who smiled and tousled his hair playfully.

Amalthea's stomach turned over in discomfort. How long had the Stark Heir been there? Had he heard her little monologue about magic? Her fingers were trembling with the urge to grab the wand and she could practically taste the memory spell on the tip of her tongue. How did she not notice that he was there? _You're getting sloppy Potter, haven't you learned anything?_ She thought. However, without being intimidated, she questioned: "Lord Robb, have you been there a long time?"

"Not much, my lady, I only heard some last parts of your conversation. My mother has been looking for you for some time now."

Seeing Rickon asleep with his head on Thea's lap, Robb came over and rocked him gently trying to wake him up. The boy opened his eyes, groaned in discomfort, and refused to get up until Robb allowed him to climb on his back and perch like a monkey. The boy yawned sleepily and rested his chin on the older brother's strong shoulder with his big shiny eyes wanting to close again.

"They did not cause you any problems, I hope?"

"Not at all. They behaved beautifully, they are wonderful boys." Thea said smiling, even though she hesitated to look at Robb, what he seemed to notice with a confused expression on his face. The daylight made the young man's hair shine like flames.

"I am not a boy, one day I will be a knight! Robb you cannot imagine the story that Lady Amalthea just told us, it had a dragon and a golden egg, and a girl who could talk to him! Nor the Targaryens were able to talk to theirs, right?" Bran spoke hurriedly, almost not even breathing, and looked sharply at Rickon who was in Robb's back. “Rickon! You did not even hear the ending, how did you let yourself fall asleep?”

The two youngest boys were quick to get into a little argument, where Rickon claimed that he had been awake all the time and that he had heard everything and Bran said that he did not believe him because he had heard his little snores and that he was a baby for having fallen asleep. This led to an even bigger discussion.

Seeing Robb's gaze on her, Thea exclaimed nonchalantly. "It was just a story I made up in the moment, nothing important. He seems to have liked it, however."

"It seemed very interesting, my Lady. Perhaps I will be able to hear it at another time?"

And with a raised black eyebrow and a small smile on her face, Amalthea replied, “Perhaps."


	12. Chapter X

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The new chapter is here! I hope you like it and I apologize for taking so long, but I was stuck in this chapter but thank god I finally managed to get over it.
> 
> Someone commented that the words I chose to be Amalthea's motto were too long, and I agreed. After thinking and with the help of the wonderful RuebyRose (go read her stories on ff.net, she is great) I decided to change it: chapter 6 was edited and where it used to say that the words were "The last enemy that shall be destroyed is death" now says "Life, Death and Sacrifice" as they are the new motto of the Peverell family in Westeros!
> 
> I have a discord server dedicated to this story, so let me know if you would like to join!

_"You are avoiding him."_

"No, I'm not." Thea replied nonchalantly, not looking up from the book she was reading attentively in the chair by the fireplace.

Across the room, Lily clicked her tongue in discontentment. _"Yes, you are and it is all because of_ **_her_ ** _."_ After seeing her mother's strong gaze, Thea thought it was best not to try to deny it again. It was true, yes, the young woman had been avoiding him for some time and yes, maybe that was related to the Stark woman's distrust of her...

It seemed that all the words that had been exchanged between them had been forgotten by the time Lady Stark saw three of her children returning to the castle with Amalthea, coming from the Godswood. Robb had said something that had made the young woman smile, and Catelyn's face had twisted into a suspicious expression, lips pressed into a straight line and eyes narrowed.

Rickon had come down from Robb's back where he was perched like a monkey, and ran towards his mother talking quickly trying to be faster than Bran in describing in detail what they were doing and the story about dragons that Amalthea had told them.

Catelyn listened absently, always with her eyes on the oldest son and the young woman with black hair, and had been quick to reprimand the two youngest boys for having been away so long, and to send them away. When Amalthea decided to accompany them, the matriarch feigned a smile as she murmured some words to Robb, who looked at her in confusion, unaware of the suspicions that crossed her mind.

Remembering that was enough to make Thea huff in scorn. She had seen men of enormous beauty: her Fred, Cedric, Sirius in his youth with all his aristocratic features, and for Merlin's sake, even she couldn't deny that Draco Malfoy was a very handsome boy... And yes, Catelyn's son was handsome, but did that really give her the right to imagine that any girl in the world would immediately fall in love with him and do anything to get their claws in him? Did it really give her the right to be suspicious of Thea just because her son had been kind to her to make her feel a little more welcomed? Unlike her, that despicable Theon or even Lord Stark himself, because however welcoming he might be, he hadn’t made any attempt to try to know her.

Amalthea was in Westeros to find a home, not to fall for any man she came across. So, in order to try to avoid any conflicts, the witch thought it would be better to start trying to avoid any contact with Robb, something that he did not take long to notice and wonder as to the reasons why. Wherever he was, she did her best not to be. If she saw him in a castle corridor, she did her best to get past him as quickly as she could with an exchange of kind and courteous words, even when it seemed like he wanted to say more.

There was a time when she thought she was being paranoid and absurd about her own behavior, but the sudden appearance of that maid, Erin, (the one who showed her a cold and severe attitude when she came to call her to drink tea with Catelyn) that interrupted them, and who had been quick to report that Lady Stark wanted to speak to her son, showed her the opposite. Lady Stark had eyes everywhere.

_"Are you really going to let that woman let you stop doing what you want?"_

"I'm at her house for now, I have to try to avoid conflicts."

_"That doesn't mean you can't make friends."_

“It does when she has illusory ideas that I want something more than friendship with her son and can cause me more troubles than I need.”

_"You can be the most stubborn person I have ever seen, and I am married to your father!"_

This caused Thea to finally look up from the words in the book, and smile in Lily's direction. "That’s funny, he says the same about you."

Lily's emerald green eyes narrowed into slits: "Oh, really?" And her translucent body disappeared for a few seconds, only to return accompanied by James, who was shrieking screaming as his right ear was twisted by his wife.

"Oh, Lily dear, stop please! I'm sorry."

Lily snorted, displeased, but finally let go. James cleared his throat, straightened his crooked glasses and pouted at his laughing daughter. "You little traitor!"

* * *

Kreacher arrived a few days later, on a gray and damp afternoon, indicating that it would rain later that day. He had been spotted by Bran, who was once again on top of one of the many roofs he had decided to climb, but who had been quick to notify his family and Amalthea of the older man's return.

Lord Eddard was busy that day, and the children were in their classes (Arya tried to escape, but a piercing look from her mother was enough to send her back to Septa Mordane’s classes, though not without casting Thea pleading eyes) thus leaving only Robb, Lady Catelyn and Amalthea who were quick to advance to the courtyard awaiting his arrival. The conversation between them was minimal but the sound of the curious servants and men-at-arms who did their daily tasks around them, filled those moments of tense silence.

It seemed like it had taken forever for Kreacher to finally get through the gates, with the wheels moving slowly with the weight on the cart and the horses' feet hitting the muddy ground sending mud everywhere. When he finally came to a stop in front of her, Kreacher jumped to the ground, a small smile on his face, making the mud splash on his boots and the hem of Amalthea's velvet dress, which she didn't seem to mind. His almost-bald head glistened with sweat, and Slytherin's locket was, as usual, around his neck.

"My Lady." He greeted her, followed by a hasty greeting to the present members of the Stark family. "Everything is here, as promised."

"Kadeem..." Knowing that she was being closely watched by everyone in the courtyard, Thea returned the greeting as she approached him, a happy, soft smile on her face. The difference in height was notable; Thea used to think that she was short but Kreacher--Kadeem--was even shorter than her, barely taller than Bran, and she was sure that he would only get smaller with age. If nothing else, his small size would have drawn stares, even if it weren’t for the cargo he’d brought. "There were no problems, I hope?"

"None, it was a trip without interference," Kadeem reported with a small bow.

 _Of course it was_ , Thea thought amusedly, smiling internally.

"Good." She leaned over and looked at the back of the cart, which was covered with a brown cloth to avoid greedy eyes. Kreacher was quick to uncover it, revealing the large number of wooden chests richly decorated with her initials in a beautiful and elegant gold calligraphy, all meticulously arranged to fit in the small space. Where Kreacher could, he had also inserted rolls and rolls of rich fabrics in the free spaces: silk, satin, and velvets all in beautiful colors that were immensely soft to the touch and flowed like water from a spring, carefully sandwiched by more canvas cloth to protect them. "Oh, twelve? More than I remembered." The innocent look of bemusement, like butter wouldn’t melt in her mouth, nearly cracked the former house elf’s serious demeanor.

Kadeem nodded and his wrinkles deepened when a conspiratorial smile formed on his thin lips. "Yes, my Lady, and they are quite heavy."

Thea very carefully did not snort in amusement at that, and instead nodded in understanding before inspecting him. "You must be tired..." he wasn't, but he pretended that he was. "We just need to take this to my chambers and you can rest after a hot meal,” she turned to look at Lady Stark, “if it is not too much to ask?” Lady Catelyn nodded in agreement and called in some men to help them unload the cart.

“Here, let me help you, Lady Thea. ” Robb said, striding to Amalthea's side in large and fast steps.

"Robb..." Catelyn tried to stop him with a hint of disapproval in her ice-cold voice.

"What?" He questioned confused. Thea pretended disinterest in their interaction while she kept herself busy opening one of the long boxes. He leaned over to look inside, "Oh, Theon would kill to get his hands on such a bow." It was a beautiful recurve bow, made of golden yew with elegant runic script engraved along the length and the grip wrapped in chocolate brown leather.

Thea glanced at him with a small smile, "It is beautiful, isn't it?"

Lady Catelyn frowned, her blue eyes seemed to pierce them both, but she stopped herself from saying anything more when she felt other people's eyes on her.

Three servants and men at arms came to help unload the cart, grunting slightly at the heaviness of the chests as they lifted them down. Thea was talking to Kreacher, questioning him more deeply about his trip when she heard a loud noise that interrupted the conversation and drew everyone's attention to the huge trunk that had been ponderously shoved to the edge of the cart, but had tipped off the ledge and fallen, its contents spilled out on the ground. Hundreds of gold coins gleamed in the daylight, large and beautiful, but now stained with mud. A few pieces of jewelry had fallen out as well, the smaller wooden boxes they’d been packed in for safekeeping having come unlatched in the tumble. Emerald necklaces and ruby pendants glimmered among the gold, and even a pair of delicate pearl earrings shone softly from their place atop their velvet cushion--though thankfully they had not fallen free to become lost or damaged in the sea of coins. 

There was a curse and a shocked gasp somewhere, and one of the men carrying another of the chests fumbled with what he had in hand and nearly dropped it on the floor as well. He looked at the coins scattered in absolute shock before blushing and went back to his work, though obviously distracted. 

The servant that had dropped the gold had become deathly pale, wide-eyed and shivering in fear. He seemed to want to cry when he saw the amount of money in front of him scattered in the mud, but Amalthea just smiled and assured him that it wasn’t his fault when he tried to stutter out an apology. When she bent down and unhurriedly helped him put the contents back inside the now righted chest, she heard a sharp intake of breath.

When she finished and returned to her former place next to Kadeem, she saw that Lady Stark was looking at her with a studiously blank face, but her eyes shone with something that seemed intensely interested. It was funny how the older woman had been raised in southern courtly ways and taught not to show what she really felt, but Thea was able to read her easily. She couldn't help but smile mentally at that, smug at the proof that had just been shoved into the Tully trout’s face.

 _Yes, I am who I say I am_ , Thea thought, playing with the skin of her tattooed palm.

Later, in the safety of her room, Amalthea was quick to go through the contents of the chests. Kreacher had put in everything he thought an aristocratic lady should have with her: gold, jewelry, dresses and other finely made garments, rich fabrics, books, and even some weapons. A small dagger with a sharp blade and a diamond on the pommel made her think of Arya, the poor, wild, misunderstood wolf girl, and she made a sudden decision to pick out some specific items for the members of the Stark family as a thank you for their hospitality. Some of the bolts of fabric would do for Sansa and Lady Catelyn, while one of her fountain pens and a thick sheaf of paper would do well for Lord Stark, seeing as such things would be seen as luxury goods and be worth a small fortune. She would have to finish going through everything Kadeem had brought back and hand them over at a more opportune time.

With a satisfied sigh, playing with a clinking handful of gold coins in her hand, Thea smiled slightly. Gold wasn’t everything. It would take more than mere wealth to restore Moat Cailin, make it a worthy home, but this… It was a start.

The next few days were spent in much the same way, meeting the few members of the Starks who bothered to get to know her too, making plans with Kreacher and reading everything she could get her hands on. In fact, many of those days were spent inside the library in the maester’s tower, behind closed doors to ensure that no one saw her use of magic, and duplicating each of the books there. She thought it was a good idea to have a personal copy of all of Winterfell's books, as she did not know when or if she would have a chance later to read them (the fact that she had them in her bag and could read in the safety of her room too was an asset).

And it was in the library where she was now, finishing copying the last of the books. The tip of her wand glowed with magic, a book exactly like the original appeared on the table in front of her, and after flipping through it and seeing that everything was right, she stuffed the copy in her bag and saw the real one disappear and reappear on the shelf where it belonged.

"It's done." She said, leaning back in her chair tired and feeling the beginning of a headache. She massaged her forehead, trying to remove the pain with her fingers, and even though she didn't want to, she let them fly towards the lightning-shaped scar that had been with her since childhood, feeling the skin marked on her fingerprints.

"Now what, Mistress?" Kreacher questioned her, interrupting her movements.

"Now…” She started, with a vicious smile forming on her lips and a flame of determination igniting in her green eyes. “Now it's time for us to pay a visit to what will be my new home."

* * *

"You want to go to Moat Cailin?" The serious man that seated opposite to Amalthea questioned, as he read some of the scrolls on the long table and signed several others, looking up every few seconds to look the younger woman in the eye.

"In fact I do, Lord Stark." She confirmed it, even if it felt like she had done it five times in the past ten minutes.

Eddard sighed, finally put down the scrolls he was working on and gave full attention to the woman who was watching him with resolute eyes. "My Lady, Moat Cailin is..." He seemed to be looking for the right words that would not cause offense. "Moat Cailin is-"

"A pile of rocks, a pile of ruins, a place that is accumulating dust and that is inhabited only by animals and ghosts, I know that!" Thea interrupted and then sighed in a way that showed a certain weariness. “But it is my home, Lord Stark. It is where my family lived, where my ancestor was happy during all his years in Westeros and it belongs to me. I have to see how it is, and see what it will take to rebuild it. I have to estimate how long the work will take, look for the men needed to do it and calculate how much money I will have to spend.”

"To tell you the truth, I don't know if reconstruction will even be possible... only three towers remain standing, if it does the cost will be enormous." Lord Stark finally confided.

The right corner of her lips lifted in an almost amused smile. "It will be possible, believe me and money will not be a problem."

There was a brief pause before Lord Stark let out a heavy sigh. "Alright, when do you plan to leave?"

"As soon as possible, I just wanted to let you know since I'm living under your roof right now." She feigned a laugh, and smiled politely, receiving nothing more than a nod from the Stark man. She felt like snorting inelegantly and rolling her eyes at his coldness towards her. Both husband and wife made no effort to get to know her, and when they did - as was the case with Catelyn - the coldness returned quickly. Thea was so tired of all the diplomacy games, but she had a role to play.

"I am glad you did it so I have time to arrange an escort to accompany you."

"I do not want to inconvenience you." Amalthea's response was immediate. _More than I am already_ , she thought to herself.

Eddard made a gesture with his hand, as if he were blocking her words, which almost made her smile when she saw such an atypical act of the always serious Lord. "It's not a bother, I will inform Jory to gather some men and get them ready to leave in..." He paused for a moment as he thought, and rummaged through the scrolls for something. When he found a specific one, he read something and spoke again: “... two days, if you like. Unfortunately, I don’t think I will be able to accompany you, but I can tell my son to go in my place. Perhaps Jon and Theon too.”

This was not something Thea expected, nor wanted to be honest with herself. Of course, as soon as the man said he wouldn't be able to go, the possibility of Robb going as his replacement crossed her mind, but even so she hoped that Lord Stark wouldn't really make that decision. It would be immensely embarrassing, especially as she spent the last few days avoiding the poor boy.

"My Lord, I do not wish in any way to disturb Lord Robb's routine and education, for sure he must be very busy with his duties as your heir." She said playing with her fingers in feigned shyness, trying to get him to change his mind.

"It does not disturb at all, it will do my son good to see more of the north as the future Lord of Winterfell, Moat Cailin is a good place to start."

Thea felt the corners of her lips drop slightly but was quick to turn them back up with a polite smile. "If you are sure, my lord."

"Is there a problem, Lady Amalthea?" The man asked with sincere concern. "Did Theon bother you again?"

Thea thought about telling him that there was a problem, that his lady wife was delusional, seeing things where there was none and that she watched every step Thea took... but the young woman chose not to. Instead, she replied, "Of course not, Lord Stark, everything is alright. Don’t you worry."

The man seemed to assess her for a while, his brow furrowed in concentration as he sought sincerity in her green eyes. When he was finally satisfied with whatever he found, he linked his fingers together with his hands over the scrolls he read earlier, and continued. "Very well. I will provide everything necessary for your trip, then.”

And with an exchange of polite smiles, that conversation ended. Later, Amalthea Potter was walking through the inner courtyard on the way to the Great Hall when she was ambushed by Arya and Bran, both tired from running and with their clothes slightly spattered with mud.

"Let me go with you." Arya immediately begged as soon as she saw her, making Thea raise an eyebrow.

Bran was quick to follow. "Can I go too?"

"Shouldn't you be in lessons?" She asked, continuing on her way with the two children slightly ahead of her walking backwards.

"No." The two responded immediately.

"Of course not." Thea smiled, not convinced at all.

"Can we go with you to Moat Cailin?"

“How do you even know about that? I talked to your father just an hour ago.”

"Jon told me." It was the only answer Arya gave her, before she started begging again.

Amalthea stopped and watched as the two children stopped in front of her, each with a sadder look than the other, almost close to doing something like a pout. As much as she wished they could go too, she knew there was someone who would never agree. "If your parents allow it."

Arya crossed her arms furiously, stamping her foot on the ground and making pieces of mud fly over her brother's boots, who gave her a disgruntled look and shook his foot in a failed attempt to remove the dirt. "As if mother would ever let us."

The young witch sighed, rubbing Bran's hair when she saw how dismayed he was. "I am sorry I truly am but if your parents don't allow it, I can not take you with me."

They seemed to think for a while before Arya shook her head, pushed Bran who almost fell (only managing to keep his balance thanks to Thea), then smirked and started running towards the fortress. "I will convince father."

"If father sees that you are not in your lessons he-" Bran broke off seeing the older woman's amused look with the confirmation that they should, in fact, be in their daily lessons. "I mean- Wait for me, Arya!"

The girl's loud laughs echoed across the courtyard.

"Then hurry up, squirrel." Bran started running after her when she stopped and spoke to Thea again. “Oh, and Robb asked to tell you to meet him at the stables. Something about a horse, I don't remember but he is waiting there with Theon.”

 _Great_ , Amalthea thought, losing her smile the moment the two children disappeared from her sight. The two that she wanted to avoid, for different reasons. Knowing that she could not avoid the inevitable, and even a little curious as to what those two wanted, Thea turned on her heels and headed for the place where Robb and Theon were waiting for her.

It didn't take long for her to see the two boys talking to an older man who must have been the head stableman. The stable was a long, rectangular building, made of wood and dark stone, with a large pen where a small white foal and his mother grazed. As soon as they noticed her, they apologized to the horseman and addressed her.

"My lady..." Robb started to say as soon as he saw her. His red hair that looked like flames in the afternoon sun almost blinded her, but she ignored it and greeted them both.

"Lord Robb, Lord Theon, Arya told me that you wanted to see me."

Theon smirked and gestured towards the stable door, indicating her to move on and giving Robb no chance to answer. "Come see." He said mysteriously, making the Heir of Winterfell sigh frustratedly.

"What is it?"

"My father informed me of our journey, and as we know that neither you nor Lord Kadeem have a horse of your own, my father suggested letting you choose one of ours."

 _Oh…_ Thea thought. That was unexpected but not entirely surprising. Both she and Kreacher had already made plans to buy mounts in Winter Town, but it seemed that Lord Stark had anticipated it.

"That is really very thoughtful, I am very grateful."

Robb smiled, but frowned when Thea just returned it with a small smile from her own. "It's not a problem, they are all available and you can choose the one that you want, your advisor’s as well."

"I will let him do it himself."

They entered the stable and were quickly hit by the sounds of the animals, the heat, and the smell of hay and horse droppings. Thea wrinkled her nose at the scent but smiled amusedly when Theon laughed. Six horses occasionally neighed inside, three on each side.

"My mother will probably send some of her maids to accompany us, and we thought that a wheelhouse would be better for you ladies to travel in comfort but we wanted to give you the option to choose." Robb informed.

"If we take a wheelhouse, will it delay our trip a lot?" Thea asked, trying not to be offended by the fact that she - being a woman - needed to travel comfortably...

"Yes."

"Then I will go on horseback." She decided.

"And you know how to ride a horse, right?" Interrupted Theon, smirking.

 _No_ , she thought, _but I know how to ride a flying broom that can reach over 100km of speed and a hippogriff that is practically a horse with wings... A normal horse shouldn't be that difficult._

"Yes I know."

"Well, then choose the one you want."

Making the choice was the most difficult. All the horses there were beautiful and strong, of different shades and personalities, if the stableman's little comments had anything to say about it (“Oh, Thunder… This one is brute but a loyal beast.” He said when Thea assessed a brown stallion or “Snowflake is not a very strong name but this boy is adored by children and very gentle.” when talking about a white horse).

"And this one?" Thea asked curiously, stopping.

“Oh, this is beautiful, isn't it? It is relatively new, but very kind and helpful. It is also fast, perhaps the fastest of all that we have here. ” The man informed.

And it really was. With brown fur on almost all the body, except for the feet and the face that was white, the mare was strong and was quick to blow air with its huge nostrils in Thea's hand when she started to caress it. "Good girl..." The young witch said affectionately, patting her long chocolate brown neck and receiving a small whinny in return. "What is her name?"

"Masquerade."

"Masquerade..." Amalthea tested the name while still petting the animal while the others watched her. Suddenly Masquerade pulled her huge head close to hers, and nibbled on the ends of her black hair like hay, pulling a surprised laugh from the woman. "Oh, this is the one!"

"Are you sure?"

"Yes, how much do I owe you?"

Robb and the horseman exchanged a look, but Robb refused any attempt at payment. The rest of the afternoon was spent with Thea getting acquainted with her new mare, with Robb and Theon teaching her how to saddle her own horse after she said she didn't want to be dependent on anyone (even if it wasn't too lady-like), and avoiding anything on Robb's part that might seem too close to anyone who laid eyes on them that afternoon.

* * *

Two days later, they were already on the road. The first day after their departure from Winterfell was the most difficult, without a doubt. Her body was sore from being on top of the horse for hours, her back hurt and her muscles were tense. It was painful, yes, but nothing she hadn't experienced before, nothing like the days when she, Ron and Hermione were on the run looking for horcruxes.

Despite the good company around her and the many stories that Jory Cassel (the captain of the guards) had to tell, there was a certain tension each time the young witch looked at the three youngest boys... Jon kept himself quiet and solemn, and when he spoke it was in a low voice in his strong northern accent. Theon joked from time to time, making a raunchy jibe or two that were in no way appropriate around Amalthea and the three maids ( in the service of Lady Catelyn - that is, her eyes and ears on that trip) that accompanied her, but he was mostly calm and didn't try to cause any problems.

Robb, however, glared at her with a mixture of curiosity and annoyance each time she started to look away, but Thea was able to capture his enraged countenance and red face when it happened for the tenth time. She knew it wouldn't be long before he burst and demanded to know what happened ...

And she was right, because at the end of the fifth day after setting up the camp and lighting a fire with small conversations between their due tasks, Robb had approached her and Kreacher, who were talking softly while sitting on a fallen log in front of the fire. He came with ears almost as red as her hair and blue eyes that looked like ice.

"Lady Amalthea..." He said immediately as soon as he approached them, interrupting what Kreacher had been saying. “Can you come with me for a moment? I need to speak with you.”

"Can't wait a little, Lord Robb?" Amalthea tried to avoid the conversation that was sure to follow.

"No, my lady, it can not." His tone was so cold that it made old Kreacher's eyes narrow into slits of displeasure.

His whole face showed that there was no room for an alternative option. With a defeated sigh, Thea waved and Robb walked away, knowing that she would follow.

“Who does this muggle think he is, demanding my Lady's attention and time?” Kreacher murmured softly to himself, receiving an angry warning look from the young witch who was walking away from him. "Oh, Mistress Walburga would never allow that, Mistress Amalthea shouldn't have either."

They did not go very far knowing that a few curious ones kept their eyes on them, but they stayed far enough away to not be heard by the rest who settled around the fire. Neither said anything for a good few minutes, not because there was nothing to say but because neither knew how to articulate the necessary words.

Not wanting to be the one who would begin what would probably be an embarrassing conversation, Thea remained silent before her eyes fixed on his, and waited...

"Did I do something wrong?" Robb finally questioned, with red cheeks and more sad than sullen - as he had been previously.

"No." Amalthea was sincere.

"Did I offend you in any way?" He pressed.

The answer was the same. "No."

Robb pressed his lips together, turning them in a straight line as he looked at her almost fiercely. “Then I confess that I don't understand why you've been avoiding me so persistently. Whenever you see me, you leave. When I speak to you, you are vague in your response but you speak warmly to everyone else. When I am close to you, you withdraw and do not look me in the eye, and to be honest I am even surprised that you are finally doing it at this moment…” The man-boy said everything quickly, his chest heaving. "If I have not offended you or done anything wrong, I do not understand what is the problem here, my Lady."

"Lord Robb-"

"Robb." He interrupted.

"Lord Robb.." Thea insisted calmly, playing with her fingers as she stared at him, thinking about how to express her thoughts. "I am sorry-"

"I confess that at first I didn't think it was anything serious..." The Heir of Winterfell continued not letting her speak, making her raise a black eyebrow. "I thought you could be just tired, or just having a bad day because I know it happens to everyone... but when the same thing kept happening over and over again I couldn't ignore it anymore."

"It is because of your lady mother." Thea interrupted, trying to put an end to the confused words that came out of his mouth at breakneck speed.

The effect was immediate. Robb froze, opened his crystal blue eyes wide and frowned in an astonished way. He seemed to want to speak again, but the only thing he managed to do for a moment was open, close and open his mouth again, until at last he seemed to find a simple word: "What?"

“A few days ago Lady Catelyn invited me to drink tea with her, and inbetween small talk she mentioned you. She seems to be under the illusion that, for some reason unknown to me… how should I say this? She seems to think there is a possibility that something exists between us.”

"What?" Robb asked again, his face red as a tomato.

“I tried to convince her that there is nothing more than kindness and friendship between the two of us, which is quite true, and at the time she seemed to understand, but since the day we returned from the Godswood with Bran and Rickon, she has been looking at me suspiciously, even coldly, as if she suspects me of planning some foul deed. I understand her position, I do, as I am a stranger in her house living with the children she loves so much, but I know that she has assigned maids to keep an eye on me, especially when we are close to each other… So, to try to avoid any possible conflict or unfounded fear on the part of Lady Stark, I thought the best option was to avoid contact with you. I was wrong, I know and I beg your pardon, but at the moment it was the best option I saw to not have to reveal the truth and cause any kind of awkwardness between the two of us.”

But as much as she didn't want to, there was certainly a certain awkwardness between them now. The air was tense with a hint of embarrassment, and the sounds of their escort of ten men, three maids and Jon, Theon and Kadeem were the only thing heard, since at that moment neither of them knew what else to say.

After a long, long time Robb spoke, ashamed but serious in his tone: "I am sorry for any embarrassment my mother may have caused you."

“As I said, in part I understand her... but understanding does not mean that I think it is correct the way she made me go through so much suspicion, and in part humiliation, when she observed my every step as if she thought I was a thief or a murderer in her home. Even here she has eyes on me, on both of us.”

"What do you mean?"

Thea's response was a minimal nod in the direction of the camp. Robb turned slightly trying to understand, and through the now dark night he was able to observe the curious and attentive eyes of the three maids who, even serving dinner and talking to each other, never seemed to take their attention from them. Robb's red eyebrows rose suddenly in an expression of astonishment and understanding, and he was quick to move a foot or two away trying to create more space between them to avoid any possibility of strange ideas.

"I see. I'll have a word with my mother when we get back to Winterfell."

"You don't have to do that, Lord Robb." The young witch was quick to certify.

"Yes, I do, my lady. It is not fair of my mother to have treated you this way when there is nothing more between us than respect."

"I thank you then." _I just don't know if it will do more harm than good,_ she thought. "And again I apologize for my immature behavior towards you, I should have been sincere at the beginning but I didn't want to cause any kind of tension."

Robb nodded and smiled: "I understand your reasons, my lady, there is nothing to forgive. I ask you just one thing..."

"What is it?"

"Call me Robb."

"I don't know if it would be a good idea..."

Seeing that Amalthea was looking at her three spies, Robb insisted: "If you are not comfortable, don't do it, but if you would like, you can call me Robb when we are alone or close to people you trust."

"We will have to see." Thea said playfully.

With a nod and an exchange of smiles, the two returned to the others as if they had never left. They sat down, ate with small conversations here and there - although the three maids, Lyessa, Erena and Erin seemed to want to interrogate her but without knowing exactly how to do it. And when dawn found them both Thea and Robb were definitely more relieved the tension had dissipated.

There was still, of course, a certain embarrassment mostly on the part of Winterfell's heir but nothing that they could not cope with.

By the end of the first week, Amalthea's body had become accustomed to the routine again and she felt that she would be able to travel all over Westeros on a horse without stopping, if possible.

On that day, they rode for a few hours after sunrise feeling the cool breeze of the wind, and talking to each other when a loud sound interrupted them and made all heads turn to the back of the group, where Jon was moving away abruptly from Theon with a reddish face and furrowed brows. Theon however laughed out loud, shouting something to the other to hear: "Easy Snow, it was just a joke."

Amalthea felt her own eyebrows furrow, and when Jon was close to her she called out, "Lord Jon, please walk with me."

This caused the boy to turn his neck towards her so quickly that Amalthea was amazed that he had not broken it. Jon looked at her, then at Robb and the rest of their companions watching him, and again at her before waving and approaching, until his horse was almost leaning against Masquerade so that they could both speak without being heard.

"Is everything all right?" She asked quietly.

"Yes it is, my Lady."

"Do you want to talk about it?"

"It's nothing, just Theon being Theon."

 _Only Theon being an idiot as always_ , was what his words really meant.

"Tell me about you." Thea asked.

Jon glanced at her, straightening slightly on top of the horse, showing that he was at least minimally uncomfortable. That was not the woman's intention, but from what she had already noticed any kind of attention caused discomfort to the curly-haired boy.

"What do you want to know, my Lady?"

Thea hummed as she thought, and patted her mare's strong neck. “How is your life? What do you like to do? I do not know, whatever you want to tell me I accept. ”

"I-" Jon hesitated for a moment, without a definite answer. "I do not know."

"Jon..." Thea suddenly stopped. She caused Masquerade to slow down her trot by motioning for Jon to copy her and letting the others overtake them, feeling the warmth of their interested gaze on them. Finally, when they were at the end of the group she continued: "I want to know more about you."

"Why?"

"Because I like to think that we could be friends."

"But... but I'm a bastard, Lady Peverell."

"And what's wrong with that? I really don't understand. Yes I know I'm a Lady, and I also know that it might not be wise to say this out loud because I know that it would be frowned upon by many, but I really could care less about their opinion and the fact that you are a bastard. Is that really important to others? What should matter is the type of person you are and you are good Jon, and for me that is what really matters."

Even if he wanted to - which Thea knew he wouldn't because he was easy to read - Jon wouldn't be able to hide the shock he felt at that moment, it was very apparent in his face: eyebrows raised high, mouth slightly open, rosy cheeks and bulging eyes. Thea kept a gentle smile on her lips but tried to show seriousness in her eyes, and after a few moments of silence between the two, Jon said, "No one sees it like you, I am the stain on Lord Stark's honor."

"Did you ask to be born?" She asked quickly.

"No."

"So if you did not ask to be born and if you were not responsible for your creation, why do you have to bear the consequences of the actions of others? I told you once and I say it again, from where I come a child is not looked at differently for being a child born out of marriage and you shouldn't be either."

Jon quickly turned his red-hot face in the opposite direction where Thea was, perhaps trying to hide what he felt at that moment. "I am very lucky to have the life I have, I know that I am luckier than many other bastards in the world." His voice shook slightly as if he wanted to cry, but he controlled himself and looked at the path ahead blankly. "When the time comes, I will join the Night's Watch and there I will live an honorable life on the Wall.It is more than I could ever wish for."

Jon frowned and his eyes went slightly dull and empty. Then he shook his head causing some of his black curls to fall on his face, and looked her in the eye for a mere second in search of something before quickly looking away. This caused Thea to tighten the leather reins she held, until her fingers went white. _He is afraid, he has lived in fear all his life,_ the young witch thought angry with this world and with these closed-minded people.

"Are you happy?" She asked in a small voice, knowing it was a very bold question, a question she shouldn't have asked someone she had known for just a few weeks but still she was unable to avoid it.

Jon's head snapped up in confusion and surprise. His face was almost deathly pale, his lips almost colorless but his gray eyes shone like liquid silver.

He didn't give her an answer, but she also didn't need one as she already knew what it was. How could she not? How could she not know when she saw his sad look when looking at his siblings who, however much they loved him, did not understand... How could she not know when she saw how he was treated for being a bastard. As he was hated, and demoted, and humiliated by everyone - especially Lady Catelyn - for being a child born out of wedlock, and the biggest stain on Ned Stark's honor and his wife's biggest shame?

He was not happy, not entirely, and Thea knew it because she recognized the broken look he had, knew the smiles too small that he gave, the search for something that was not there. How could she not recognize this when this sadness lived with her for most of her life, almost all of her childhood and now her almost adult life? Thea knew what it was like to be unwanted, to be hated just because she existed, the humiliation of being demoted and stepped on like a stray dog. She knew what it was like to want a real home and a home full of love. Jon had it in his father and brothers, and she had it in Sirius and Remus, in Hermione, the Weasleys and everyone else... But there was a love she wouldn't have again - the love of her parents and the love of Fred -, and knowing that would never make the pain and sadness go away, at least not entirely... And she knew that the love of Lord Stark and his children was not enough to erase the pain that Jon felt.

She shook her head full of black hair, interrupting her thoughts at the moment, and giving way to others that she started to express aloud: "Jon, if you-"

But whatever she was going to say was lost, for at that moment Theon approached them with a smirk on his thin lips and Amalthea knew that peace was almost over. Jon knew it too, having given her an exasperated smile and was quick to join Theon and then Robb, trying to keep the heir Greyjoy and whatever his jokes were from the young witch's ears.

Amalthea Potter was left alone, reflecting on everything that had been discussed between her and Jon, with a tight heart and a bitter feeling in her mouth when thinking about the sadness and demotion that the bastard Winterfell suffered every day… Fortunately - or unfortunately - she was quickly removed from these angry thoughts with the approach of Lyessa, Erena and Erin, which made her sigh somewhat frustrated and prepare for the interrogation. She had no problem with Lyessa and Erena, they were both young and lively (Lyessa more than the other, since she was almost never silent when given the opportunity) and as much as they were there in a certain way to spy on her at the behest of Lady Stark, Thea could see herself becoming fond of them. It was Erin, the surly and arrogant Erin, with whom she could not stand.

As soon as Erin opened her mouth to make a petty comment about Jon, that the witch was quick to end, Thea knew it was going to be a long trip…

* * *

The next few days were spent normally: waking up, eating, spending hours on horseback, taking one or two breaks to rest, and a few more hours of walking until they decided it was time to set up camp and rest once more. The closer they got to the south, the hotter the air became, if that was possible since they were still in the north. It was cold, yes, but like a normal day in England or Scotland... Cold, but not unbearable and that allowed them to abandon the warm layers of coats.

The opportunity to bathe was infrequent, except for one or two inns miles away from each other, or an occasional lagoon - but even so it wasn't often... Some of their people didn't look very well, some long beards, some greasy hair and some (those who didn't want to bathe when they could) with a not very pleasant smell. It was in those moments that Thea was immensely grateful for the magic and cleaning spells.

They woke to find the morning of the twenty-first day gray, slightly wetter, and with clouds of condensation so thick around them that it was difficult to see what was around them. Jory Cassel had tried to say that they were not far away but the mood of the group was low, so that morning after eating and hitting the road they had little to say, only waiting for the weather to improve.

A few hours later the dirt road, that had become a muddy path a few days ago, became almost swampy.

And there in the distance, through the fog, finally the three towers...

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Guys please don't kill me, I promise that next chapter will be already at Moat Cailin uwu. I'm working on it right now, I hope it won't take me too long to finish. As always, I want to thank you all for your support never in a million years - when this story was only a thought in my head - I imagined that people would read it. Now, looking back I kinda wish I hadn't posted it immediately, without having a good amount of pre-written chapters in order not to feel the pressure of having to finish one quickly and so I you guys shouldn't be waiting for so long, but now it's done and I'm trying to give the best of me. Thank you very much to all of you who read abd that always review and wait for the new chapters, I really appreciate that!


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